Wanderer's Tales
by Idojgrrl
Summary: These stories follow Caoimhe of the Onior family, after the fall of Silvermoon. You don't need to read the first story to understand this one, but please feel free to enjoy both. We'll see where they go, but as always, feedback is appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

Dahanan sat listening to his wife's pleas. It isn't that he was ignoring her, it had just become a constant refrain, and his response, as always, was an automatic, "I will speak with her."

Andorai stomped her foot, "It is not enough, Dahanan."

He turned his eyes from the open window to her angry face. Last week it was how long his sister took to run errands for Andorai, the week before it was her refusal to wear anything other than the leather breeches she went riding in. Prior to that, she had disappeared for days. She had returned with ample game, but Andorai had been terrified she had wandered off and been killed by the Scourge that still attacked at random. Andorai's fears had grown, compounded by raising their child in such uncertain times.

"I am not her father, I cannot order..."

"Of course you can," she insisted. Her husbands face looked shocked and she sighed, suddenly remorseful. "She will listen to you."

Dahanan looked at his wife and leaned back in the chair. "Andorai," he said gently, "do you remember our wedding day?"

She blinked and frowned, suddenly busying her hands with her skirt. "I do," she said.

"Do you remember what you told me?"

"It was a wonderful day, Daan..."

"On your terms, Andorai," he cut her off, "You wanted our wedding to be on our terms."

"It was still an arranged marriage," she insisted.

"Are you sorry for that?" he asked.

"No, of course not," she said, her voice short, "why can you not trust your parents choice for her?"

Dahanan frowned. It was a fair argument, he had to admit, but it still wasn't the same.

"I am not going to force her," he insisted and stood, turning from the conversation. "But I will talk to her," he conceded as he left.

Daan walked down the hill away from the house and toward the small path that served as a road. He really wasn't looking for his sister. He just wanted to think. He felt a poor guardian, not knowing where she was. But then, Mother never kept close tabs on her and she always managed just fine. Dahanan smiled. He wished he was blessed with their mother's patience. He could use it. And her wisdom. He felt he lacked both.

The sounds of rebuilding drifted through the air, the garrisons hastily fortifying and constructing. Caoimhe certainly wouldn't be here, but she was often found helping the stable master and she generally made herself useful in town when her chores at home where done. Dahanan sighed. He could not accuse her of being neglectful. She was helpful around the house, cheerful and optimistic, if not a bit distracted. Since Cai's death, she was not as talkative as she once was, and when their Mother fell ill to her grief, Caoimhe had become quieter still. She had fallen to his care. Which meant she had fallen to his wife's care, really, as he had duties within the order. But she was more than capable, he knew, she was just young. If he could put this talk of marriage off for a few years, until she was of age, then he would not need to be involved and she could make the decision herself.

A young knight stopped to salute him. He nodded and kept walking. Had she been a knight, been in the order, there would be no discussion. He sighed.  
>A sudden crash distracted him and he followed a small crowd around a corner.<p>

"We have it," someone called from a second floor ledge. The remains of a crate of fruit had fallen and its contents spilled onto the street. Dahanan stopped and bent to help.

"What are you doing here?"

Caoimhe smiled as she bent to put the salvageable fruit into a crate.

"Looking for you, actually," he said. "What are you doing here?"

She shrugged, "Andorai sent me for vegetables," a sudden look of guilt came over her face. "I'm sorry," she started, "have I been gone too long? They had a cart come, I was just helping..."

Dahanan smiled. "No," he said, "but we might as well walk back together."

She smiled and they were soon walking back toward their home, vegetables in hand.

"Will you be home for long?" she asked.

"No," he said.

"Will you be in Silvermoon?"

"Yes," he said.

"Why don't you take Andorai and the baby with you? She misses you."

Dahanan sighed, "It is not a good place for a family right now," he admitted. "Soon. We will all be able to go." His sister frowned at the road as they walked. "You don't want to go with us?"

Caoimhe shifted uncomfortably, "I...I will...of course."

"That isn't what I asked," he said.

"I could...I could take care of the house," she offered. "You would not have to give it up."

"A house is just a house," he said slowly. "We are together, don't you think that is important?"

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and earnest. "Of course."

Something hung in the air but he did not pursue it.

They walked quietly for a little while. "Andorai asked me to speak to you," he started.

Caoimhe's eyes stayed purposefully on the path ahead.

"I think," he said, "I think she would like to know why you do not wish to meet Master Kyler."

Her step stuttered slightly next to him and she made a great show of adjusting the vegatables.

"I...I just," she looked at Dahanan, "is it...really important?"

Dahanan shrugged, "It is to Father. and presumably to Master Kyler," Dahanan grinned at her, "I don't think he would want to be rejected."

Caoimhe relaxed a little, "I don't want to get married."

"Ever?" he asked.

"No, that isn't what I mean," she said.

"Well you wouldn't have to marry him now," Dahanan reasoned.

"What if I don't want to marry him at all?"

"You can of course say no, Caoi," he said, "No one is going to force you."

"No one?" she asked.

Dahanan frowned. "No one is going to force you to marry Kyler," he said with certainty.

Caoimhe looked at him, he didn't return her stare. "If I say no, father will find someone else," she said. It was a simple statement they both knew to be true. "That is...that is what he expects."

Dahanan slowed a little as the house came into view. Caoimhe slowed with him. "Father wouldn't force you either."

"I know," she said. They stood in the road looking at each other. "But it is what he expects."

They stood in the path with the vegetables.

"I will tell Andorai you will not be meeting with Kyler," he finally said. He turned and continued walking. "I hear he's a bit of a prat anyway."

* * *

><p>Caoimhe sat outside the little house listening to her brother and his wife argue. Dinner had been quiet, but strained. It reminded Caoimhe of dinners with her parents when the two of them disagreed. She had excused herself to bed after finishing the chores and slid out the window to enjoy the air. Andorai had her own child to worry about and Caoimhe was too old for her sister to look in on her, so this had become a regular habbit. She never went far, or for long, not after her last hunting trip. She knew Andorai was just concerned for her safety, but the house had to eat and she could sell the skins and bring something useful to the arrangement. She sat with her back against the wall and tried to hear what they were saying.<p>

"She doesn't need you to be her mother," Dahanan's his voice even and calm. He was always even and calm as far as she could tell.

"Why are you always taking her side?"

"She's my sister."

"I'm your wife."

There was a long silence.

'I am not saying you are wrong," came Dahanan's even tone. "But she does not need to be concerned with suitors."

"Then what will she concern herself with?"

"Let her help you with the house, let her," he paused. Caoimhe stretched up to get a look at what he was doing. "She can do just about anything here I could."

"Does that mean you will stay in Silvermoon even longer?"

Again her brother was quiet. She took a risk and peeked in the window. Andorai had her arms crossed, staring up with a half angry, half hurt expression on her face. Dahanan reached out and pulled her close, pressing her head to his shoulder and burying his face in her hair. Her parents never argued in front of them, but she never saw them do that either. He set his chin on her head.

"This isn't really about my sister," he said in the same matter of fact tome Caoimhe used.

This time, Andorai said nothing.

Dahanan sighed. He kissed her on the top of her head before he stepped away from her. "I will speak to her again," he looked at her, trying to get her to raise her eyes to his. She nodded and walked back toward their room. Dahanan headed for the room at the back of the house. Caoimhe gasped and dashed back around to the window, but when she climbed back over the low sill, Dahanan was already sitting on the bed.

"I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised," he said before she could apologize. "I know exactly who you learned it from."

Caoimhe's tense shoulders relaxed and she sat down on the bed next to him with a heavy thump.

"It isn't...," she tried to find the right words, "It isn't that I don't want to be here, Daan." she stared at her linked fingers. "To be here with you, I mean, but..."

"I know," he said. "you are a different young lady than Andorai was. She isn't quite used to that. You're too much like me," he grinned at his sister, "I think she feels outnumbered."

Caoimhe smiled slightly. "I do not wish to meet him," she reiterated.

Dahanan sighed. "I know," he said again, "but is there a reason that would be so terrible?"

Caoimhe looked up at Dahanan with suddenly wide and hurt eyes. "I thought you said I didn't have to."

He nodded at the floor, "I did, yes," he said, "I just wondered why you are so opposed."

"I don't want to get married now," she said. "I told you that."

"Yes," he said with the same tone he had used with his wife. Caoimhe frowned. Dahanan continued, "But do you see why it might be important to Andorai, and to father?"

"N..no," she stuttered, "I do not...I do not need to...to be cared for. Not...not like that."

Dahanan didn't doubt it, but still, he pressed his lips into a thin line. "Perhaps we should consider your rejoining the order," he offered. "No one would insist you start seeing suitors if you were seeking entrance to the order."

Caoimhe blinked at him. "I...I do not think they want me back."

"What makes you say that?" he said, suddenly cheered by the idea. "You are smart, you are fast, you are dedicated. Speaking as a knight, those are fine qualities." He looked at her to see if she shared his enthusiasm.

She frowned deeply. "I...I don't know, Daan," she said. "I think...I think they do not...they do not need me."

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Dahanan finally said, "Consider it, Caoimhe," he said, "I am returning to Silvermoon, I will be back in a few weeks. We can talk about it then." She nodded at the floor. He thought about messing her hair as he had when she was small, but thought better of it. He smiled at her and left her to her own thoughts.

It took her a week to get ready. Not because she had a tremendous amount of personal items to prepare, but because she could not leave Andorai without adequate arrangements. She made sure there was meat, and she took all of the furs she collected to a trader who kept Andorai's accounts, so they would have plenty to barter with. She spent an afternoon playing with her nephew, helped Andorai clean the house and made sure the small livestock was well tended. She wrote her sister in law a letter, thanking her, explaining about the account with the trader, apologizing if she did not understand the course of action, and then she took her pack, her bow and her brothers old swords, and left the little house for the last time.


	2. Chapter 2

"I simply don't have a soldier to spare," he said to the ambassador.

The ambassador frowned, a doubly disconcerting look on the face of a Forsaken. "That is unfortunate," he said, not bothering to hide his contempt, "How seriously do you expect the Horde to take your allegiance if we cannot depend on you for a simple missive?"

The commander's escort sucked in their breath, all eyes on him. His brow furrowed and he pursed his lips, choosing his word carefully. "We would not need the reinforcements if we had the soldiers to spare."

Justyn had been listening to conversation go nowhere for an hour now. He said a brief prayer that he not land his own foot in his mouth and stepped forward.  
>"Sir," he addressed the commander, "If I may have a word with you?"<p>

The commander raised an eyebrow, not pleased at having been interrupted. He excused himself from the table, allowing his second to continue the fruitless discussion.  
>"Justyn, I do not have time for jest," he said.<p>

"Sir, is there any reason your courier need be of the Order?" he asked.

"We are talking about serious military documents, I cannot trust this to just anyone," he said. Then he considered. "It does not have to be, but..."

"I believe I can find you a dedicated courier," he said. "Fast, loyal, willing and completely unafraid to take on the task." He wasn't sure about the unafraid part, but fast, loyal and willing he was certain of.

"Who did you have in mind?"

Justyn didn't answer right away. "A courier not in the order would draw less attention," he said. "I see your point, but I will not hand this over to just anyone, regardless of how highly recommended they come," he insisted. "Give me a name or withdraw your suggestion."

Justyn looked squarely at his commander and said, "Caoimhe."

His commander blinked with surprise, "Your sister? How could you offer her for such a task, she was dismissed as..."

"Sir," Justyn cut in, surprising his commander again by interrupting, "she was dismissed because she was too young, not ready to be a knight. She is loyal to the order and fast, and skilled in her own right. And she would do anything to assist our cause."

The commander considered this, looked back at the table and then to Justyn. "Bring her here to meet with me," he said, "immediately."

Justyn saluted, turned on his heel and left the negotiations. Outside the building, he broke into a sprint to the stable. There was only one problem with the idea of sending Caoimhe to Orgrimmar. He had no idea where she was.

* * *

><p>Justyn rode his charger east along the road, he turned into the woods and continued over the hills. He came to a river, checked his bearings and started north. He wasn't trying to be subtle, and he carried a crossbow loaded in his lap as he slowed, the Farstriders made their camp very near the encroaching territory of hostile tribes of trolls. He drew the expected attention before he reached the Farstrider enclave. Two rangers on striders rode out to meet him.<p>

"Well met," he said, polite but short.

They nodded, making a slight and barely veiled attempt at slowing his pace. He understood their desire for secrecy, the Knights did not appreciate having anyone barge into their headquarters either but really, weren't they all on the same side? He rolled his eyes.

"I need to speak with Adenydd," he said without greater protocol. "I don't have time to play games."

The young rangers looked at each other. They pulled up their mounts and turned around. "Thank you," he said, and shoving his crossbow back into its holster, he took off at a full gallop toward the enclave.

The Rangers has some signalling system that Justyn did not understand, but by the time he had gotten to the main building, Adenydd was standing outside, her arms crossed, a sour expression on her face.

Justyn stopped his mount and jumped off. He bowed to her, which surprised the other riders. It apparently surprised her as well. "Master Onior," she said coolly, "what brings you out to our little camp."

"Adenydd," he said, ignoring her tone, "I need your help."

She was taken off guard by the sincerity of his plea. "What is it you need?"

He looked at the others and then at her. She took the hint and turned without comment, leading him inside. The others remained with the mounts, but were starting to talk in hushed voices.

"Alright," she said when they were alone.

"I need to find Caoimhe," he said.

Adenydd made an odd face. "I am not your sister's keeper, Justyn, she is her own..."

Justyn waved his hands, "Save me the speech, I am not the enemy. I know she still comes here often and I know your scouts are remarkable and remarkably well informed. I need to find her, it is very important. Now please, can you forget whatever past lay between us and help me, for Light's sake?"

Adenydd was uncomfortably disarmed by his honesty. She shifted back and forth where she stood. She looked at him again and walked stormily to the door. She spoke quietly to those who waited there before coming back to him.

"I need her in Tranquillien by nightfall," he said, thanks in his voice.

She nodded, "We will do our best." She crossed her arms again, "You know she is not a Farstrider. I cannot compel her."

"I understand," he nodded, a little sad, "I hope she will come because I asked."

"What has happened?"

"I cannot say," he said, and then continued as he saw her face harden. "It is not personal, Adenydd." he said apologetically, "I am not at liberty to say."

She stared at him, trying to look suspicious but she knew he was being sincere.

She sighed. "Where shall I send her?"

"Send her to find me, I will wait at the inn," he stepped closer to her with his hand extended.

She took it somewhat reluctantly. He stepped in as he shook her hand and leaned down. Quickly, he kissed her on the cheek.

"Thank you," he said stepping back from her. He bowed again and before she could say anything else, strode to his mount, swung into the saddle and rode hard back to Tranquillien.

* * *

><p>The sun had gone down and Justyn had just about given up on Adenydd's help finding Caoimhe when the rustling of the curtains at the inn's door drew his eye. He stood, relieved and a little repetitious. Her eyes fell quickly on him and her face lit up.<p>

"Justyn!" she yelled, over loud for the small inn, and closed the distance between them with three bounds. Justyn was caught off guard by the unexpected affection. His sister had grown in the time they had been apart. She was still a head shorter than he, but that was easily a head taller than before and she was wiry and tan. She had cut her hair short, shorter even than when she was a squire and her clothes were mismatched and dirt stained. She had shrugged off a light bow, clearly well used, and a full quiver before opening her arms to him. She stood, smiling. Justyn gave in and stepped to embrace her.

He rested his chin on her head and said, "It is...so good to see you."

"It is good to see you too," she said, squeezing him around the middle once before pulling back, "But Adenydd said you were quite insistent that I come immediately, is everything alright? It isn't Mother is it? Is she alright? I was there only a week ago and..."

Justyn was shaking his head, "No, no, this is," he stopped himself and looked around. "This is not family business." He picked up her bow and quiver in one hand and took her hand in his other. "Come, I need to talk to you, and in private," he said pulling her toward the back door.

Caoimhe tensed suddenly, pulling her hand out of her brothers in a knee jerk reaction.

Justyn looked at her, shock and annoyance on his face for a moment before he realized what he had just done.

"I'm sorry, Caoi," he said earnestly. "You aren't a child anymore, are you?" He handed her bow and quiver back to her with a bow. "I forgot for moment. I promise you, it won't happen again."

She took her things back slowly and reassembled them on her back. "It's alright, Justyn," she said quietly. "You haven't seen me in quite a while."

He nodded slowly and instead of reaching for her hand, offered her his arm. She smiled and accepted and they walked out of the inn and into the cooling night air.

"So," he said, as they passed a few people and headed to a quieter spot to talk, "you look...very different than when I saw you last."

"I'm taller," she laughed.

"I don't think anyone will recognise you. People are going to think I am courting," he grinned.

She eyed him. "Are you...not courting?" The tone of her voice suggested she was being a little more than casual in her inquiry.

"It's complicated," he blushed slightly. "No time, I guess. Here, this will do," he stopped well down the road and looked around.

"If you want to be sure we are alone, Brahm can do that for us," she offered.

"Brahm?" he asked, looking around the bushes for some other farstrider to emerge. Caoimhe put her fingers in her mouth and let out an incredibly high pitched whistle. It sounded random and screechy.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Calling Brahm," she said, smiling.

"Who is Brahm?" he asked, rubbing his temples to clear the unpleasant ringing in his ears.

As if prompted by his question, an enormous black shadow swooped out of the trees and nearly clipped his head. He ducked reflexively.

"By the Light," he swore as he recovered.

Caoimhe laughed as the giant bat attached itself to nearby limb, wrapped its leathery wings around itself and stared at Justyn as if he were the enemy. He was easily half the size of Caoimhe, with six inch claws at the end of its digits. Justyn could only imagine how wide its wing span was.

His sister laughed and took his arm again. "Brahm," she chided, "Don't be jealous." She made a few more whistles and a few hand gestures and the over sized creature took wing again. It made low lazy circles above them. Justyn watched it glide over the trees.

Caoimhe smiled as she watched her pet wheel around above them. "He'll let me know if anyone comes close."

Justyn nodded, still slightly dazed from the fly by. He shook his head and sat down on the grass, indicating that Caoimhe should do the same.

She sat facing him, her knees pulled up under her chin, smiling. She looked suddenly like the Caoimhe he remembered.

"Caoi," he began, "I need your help."

"That is what Adenydd told me," she nodded.

"I am asking on behalf of the Order," he said.

Her smile faded slightly, but she sat attentively.

"You are aware we are, essentially, cut off from any meaningful supply lines?" he continued.

She nodded, her smile gone now.

"Any soldiers the order has to offer are, well, with defending the southern gate and containing Quel'Thalas and holding the line against the Amani..."

"The Farstriders have held the line against the Amani," she corrected him. It wasn't said with malice, just stated as a fact.

"Well, yes, you have a point," he trailed off, "but it amounts to the same problem, there are no soldiers."

"So," she started quietly, "why do you need me?"

He took a deep breath and sighed. "Our new allegiance isn't...well, it is fragile," he said. "The Horde wants assurances that we can deliver the information they need before they will send assistance."

Caoimhe looked mortified. "They are holding our supplies hostage?"

"No," he said, rubbing his eyes, "It isn't quite as dire as all that." Actually, he hadn't thought of it that way. It was an unpleasant suggestion.  
>"They want to be assured that we are earnest in our commitments and capable in our promises," he explained. "From a military point of view."<p>

She contemplated this.

"You have," he continued, "that is to say, you still want to aid the order?"

She nodded, guardedly.

"I think that is all I can say, without your speaking to our commander."

Her eyes went wide, "Justyn," she said, "I...I cannot. I mean, they..will they want me back?"

"This isn't rejoining the order, Caoi," he said, "This is a mission, on behalf of the order. But only if you are willing to go."

Caoimhe set her chin back on her knees and thought about her options.

"This is important to you?" she asked.

"It's important for all of us, Caoi," he said.

She considered a little longer. "If you think it is something I can do, Justyn," she said, "I am at your service."


	3. Chapter 3

Caoimhe stood in front of the two elder paladins, and much to her surprise, she was not nervous at all. She was a strong contrast to their pressed tabards and polished armor. They looked at her, and at each other, and at Justyn.

The commander cleared his throat. "Your brother has explained to you our need?'

"Somewhat," she said, "but he did not want to divulge too much, as we were out in the open."

He nodded. "We need a missive taken to Orgrimmar. Unfortunately, while the Forsaken are willing to allow the use of the trans-location orb that still links our two cities, the Orcs are not as trusting. Until we can solidify negotiations, you will need to get to their city on your own."

Caoimhe's jaw clinched, but she kept her face as impassive as possible. She nodded slowly. "As your brother pointed out," he continued, "the alliance will be looking for soldiers. They might overlook you."

Caoimhe looked at Justyn, who had a stony expression on his usually light features. She turned back to the commanders and nodded.

"There is a tube of documents you will be carrying. You will travel to the Undercity, then to Grom' gol in the south via a goblin zeppelin," his distaste was clear. "from there, you will have to travel to Booty Bay, it is all neutrally held goblin territory, you should be able to travel unmolested." The scope of the task started to dawn on Caoimhe. "There are trade ships that run to Kalimdor. The crews, I understand, are not picky about their passengers, as long as they pay their fair. Once in the goblin towns there, you should be able to arrange easy transportation to Orgrimmar." Caoimhe was nodding mechanically, trying to think if she new anything, ANYTHING about Kalimdor. "The documents," the commander went on, "are to be delivered directly to the Warchief's command. We have a representative in Orgrimmar," he said grimly, " try to make contact with her first." he let the information sink in. "Caoimhe," she looked at him, her brow furrowed. "is this a task you are prepared to take on."

She thought for a long moment. "Sir, I am at the service of the Order," she said slowly.

He seemed to like the answer. "This would," he added, "go far toward your re-reinstatement as an initiate."

Caoimhe's ears turned slightly pink. "I..." she started, considering, but then said, "that is very generous of you."

He nodded curtly. "I will have the documents prepared."

"I will need to retrieve a few things," she said. "It won't take long."

He frowned, but consented. "As soon as you are ready then, and the sooner the better." He extended his hand to her, a gesture which surprised her, but she shook it. he turned to Justyn, who saluted, and the two officers left the make shift office.

* * *

><p>Standing outside of the orb chamber in the ruins of what used to be the greatest human city on the continent, Caoimhe felt her skin prickle. The roof had long ago collapsed and the cold grey sky over head was boiling with angry clouds. Brahm had flown through, but was slightly stunned by the trip, unused to magic as a means of travel. He dragged himself along the ground, chittering pitifully.<p>

"Oh, Oh Brahm," Caoimhe cooed. She righted him, ignoring the small punctures in her skin as his sharp hind claws pierced her heavy leggings. "There, there," she said. He hopped and leaped and was quickly air born, flying out through the open roof. "Brahm!" she cried, slightly panicked that he would leave her in such unfamiliar territory. she rushed out through the large arch, her eyes on his figure in the sky.

"Take care," a voice said. She stopped short, skidding to a halt just before a flight of steps.

"Oh my," she said, taking in the scene before her.

She stood on a veranda over looking what once must have been a glorious courtyard. The stones were now old, greyed, with moss and weeds encroaching on what were once manicured walkways. In the center, the remains of a massive statue of...she assumed a man. Perhaps a king? She had no idea, but the entire yard was enclosed by massive, crumbling stone walls and the statue must have, at one time, stood taller than that. Like the figures that loomed over the Shepherd's gate in Silvermoon, but freestanding. And silence covered everything.

"Lost?" the voice prodded.

Caoimhe recovered her manners and turned to greet the speaker. She nearly froze with shock.

How he had managed to address her at all, she was unsure. His lower jaw was partly missing. He sat on a fallen building stone, leaning on a walking stick, but she couldn't see how the walking stick could help him, the flesh was almost entirely missing from the lower part of both his legs, right into his slippers. She was sure she could see the worm holes. His hands, resting atop the stick, where gloved, but withered, mummified arms emerged stick-like from the gloves and continued, patchy and decayed, until they where covered by a tidy tunic. His shoulders were wrapped in a woolen cloak, also far less moth eaten than his body and on his head was a large floppy hat, the kind travelers wore to avoid the sun. Caoimhe dropped her gaze to meet his eyes and suddenly wished she had not. His nose was missing, only a hole with hints of bone under the rotting flesh and his eyes were...gone. His face, if it could still be called that, spread into a knowing smile. He stood, stretching, his disconnected bones cracking as he did, and settled into a crouching walk, coming closer to her.

"Almost took a nasty tumble there," he said. His voice had the quality of shifting sand.

Caoimhe glanced down the steps, then back to him. Him? She was sure it must be...have been...a him.

"Yes," she said, her voice coming out a little more squeak than she intended. "Thank you. for warning me," she stammered a bit, he smiled and nodded. "I was...I was watching Brahm...my bat. I don't..I don't want him lost."

"Bat?" he asked, a little surprised. His empty sockets scanned the sky over the courtyard. He looked back at Caoimhe. "I figured you elves took to prettier pets that bats."

Caoimhe sniffed a little defensively. "Pretty isn't as important as skillful," she said sincerely. The man smacked his stick on the ground appreciatively and gave a nod so violent she thought it might dislodge his head.

"Damn right," he said. He looked at her again, "What are you doing here, girl?"

"I am traveling to Grom'gol," she said.

"Ah, the zep," he nodded, waving his stick toward a large gate to the left of the stairs at the end of the courtyard. "The tower's are out there, but you'll be waiting a while. Never know exactly when it will be back."

Caoimhe stared at the gate and then at the threatening sky. Brahm was still swooping overhead. She started searching the ruins for a place to wait, should it start to rain.

The man observed her. "No point in you waiting out here," he said. "come down to the city, at least have a meal," he looked at her with a grin, "you're bone thin."

"The city?" she asked, "Isn't this the city?"

He scoffed. "Does this look 'Under' to you," he started to head down the steps and toward another, larger double gate at the other end of the courtyard. "Follow me," he said, then he turned suddenly. "Where are my manners," he grinned and extended his hand, "Heck," he said, "Johnathan Heck."

Caoimhe hesitated, but extended her hand. Heck grabbed it gleefully. She could feel his bones through the glove. Even so, his grip was remarkably strong.

"You're not squeamish," he said. "I like that." he let go of her hand. She looked at it briefly, to be sure she hadn't come away with any of his fingers.  
>"Don't worry girl," he said continuing toward the gate, a little irony and a little sadness in his voice. "The plague don't affect your kind."<p>

"Oh...no," Caoimhe started, "I wasn't..." she didn't know where to go with her explanations.

"Never seen a Forsaken,eh?" he said, interrupting her thought.

"Only one," she said truthfully. She realized that the Forsaken must send their more...put together...representatives out as ambassadors. "And only from afar."

He nodded. "Takes some getting used to."

They walked through what was once a grand entrance, past a massive collapsed bell tower. Caoimhe heard Brahm above her. He had settled into the rafters with a cluster of other giant bats. He chitted at her worriedly. she answered back, to reassure him and signaled that he should stay there and wait.

"Didn't know anyone outside of the bat handlers could actually talk to those things," Heck mumbled.

Caoimhe smiled a little, "We have traveled together a little while now, we just sort of have an understanding," she said.

Heck was nodding. He led her though another chamber, some sort of monument, and through what looked like a throne room. She stared around in wonder. What it must have looked like in its day!

He headed to a side passage that led down, but stopped at the entrance. He seemed contemplative.

"I didn't get your name, girl," he said, turning.

"Caoimhe," she said, giving a slight bow out of habit.

He seemed to enjoy the gesture.

"Caoimhe," he said. He looked down the passage. "I should give you warning, the guards here are," he searched for an appropriate word, "atypical. You got a strong stomach?"

"Ye...yes?" she said.

"Then you should be fine," he nodded and then led her down deeper under Lordaeron.

It was kind of Heck to warn her, and she was glad he did. She would have been hard pressed to hide her surprise and repulsion otherwise. At the end of the passage, in front of a tall narrow door, were two enormous blobs of flesh. That was really all she could call them. They stood better than twice her height and where almost as wide. They looked to be stitched together from left over parts of anything some taxidermist could find, but none of the parts were animal. With the exception of the wide gaping, stupidly grinning, pointy toothed maw, the parts were vaguely humanoid. Caoimhe clenched her jaw and grit her teeth and tried not to looked alarmed. Heck walked right up between them and stood in front of the door. He looked back at Caoimhe, who stood a few feet back.

"You coming?" he asked.

In unison, the two guards turned their massive misshapen heads to look at her.

Hastily, she stepped forward to stand next to Heck. He nodded at her, then looked at the guards and nodded at them.

"Boys," he said amiably.

The door slid open and Heck stepped inside.

The first assault to her senses was the smell. The lift door slid open to another grey stone corner, but a wave of smells blasted into the lift chamber. Stale earth, rotted wood and death. It reminded her of the undead army that swarmed through Eversong, the smell that drifted though the woods for months after. Caoimhe wrinkled her nose and squeezed her eyes shut. Heck watched her and laughed. He turned the blind corner and waited for her to catch up. If she had been amazed at the ruins of Lordaeron proper, she was stunned by what lay underneath. The former sewers of Lordaeron was easily as deep as the tallest tower in Tranquillien was high. The central pillar, presumably what was keeping the remains of the old city from tumbling into the new civilization below, was also a main thoroughfare, with bridges and arches leading into tunnels that shot off in all directions. Over every arch there seemed to be enormous gargoyles, left over decorations from the humans who built the city. Caoimhe couldn't help but wonder why they would ornament their sewers so. And everywhere, going about life as if it had never stopped for them, where the Forsaken.

There seemed to be an incredible amount of activity. Stores were moved, blacksmith's hammers could be heard, conversation and haggling. Enormous bats swooped in and out of the upper passages, riders on their backs. The noise was tremendous, echoing off the vaulted ceilings and around the chambers. It hadn't fully occurred to her before, but when she saw the Orcs and Trolls clustered in corners she realized, the Sin'dori really were now Horde.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Heck said behind her.

"I had no idea," she said, watching a particularly heavily armored Orc strut across the upper deck. He caught her looking at him and sneered in her direction.

"Most don't" heck said, pushing past a few ambling corpses. "Let's see about a meal for you."

"Oh," Caoimhe said, suddenly not sure if she really wanted to eat anything that the Forsaken might find appetizing, "That really isn't necessary." she followed him across a bridge that spanned both the lower walkways and a sickly moat of greenish sludge.

"Not at all," he waved her off, "we're dead, not inhospitable."

Caoimhe laughed politely at his humor. He wound down over a second bridge to a lower level and then under a cavernous ledge that supported the walkway above. There, spread out like a street side lounge, was a welcome sight. The living had congregated around a cook fire, there were tables and low couches and as she got closer, the smell of bread and roasted fowl. And amid the orcs and trolls, one elf, a ladle in her hand and a smile on her face. She caught sight of Caoimhe and her smile broadened. She rapped her ladle on the edge of the cauldron she had just dropped a heap of tubers into and closed the distance between them.

"Heck," she said warmly as he approached. "You've made a friend."

Heck considered Caoimhe as he sat at one of the tables.

"Never know what's gonna follow you home," he grinned.

Caoimhe stopped short of sitting down. "Mr. Heck suggested I not sit out in the rain," she said.

She nodded and looked Caoimhe up and down. The other patrons were eying her as well. She pulled a chair out from an empty table and offered it to Caoimhe.  
>"I have stew and I have bread and that's about it," she said. She started to put a plate together.<p>

"I...I don't have any way to pay you, ma'am," Caoimhe said, hurriedly, but quietly rising to stop her in her efforts.

The elf held the ladle over the dish and looked at her, an eyebrow raised. "How long will you be in the Under City?" she asked sceptically.

"Only until I can take the zeppelin to Grom 'gol," Caoimhe said. The orcs turned a little to listen.

The host filled the bowl and handed it to her anyway. "You will help me clean up after they leave," she said, jerking her head toward the other table. Caoimhe smiled and nodded. She wasn't hard up for the meal, but she didn't want to be rude either. She sat back in the chair she had been offered.

"Are you not eating?" she asked Heck.

He raised his hand in a polite decline. "Not my favorite," he said.

She raised the bowl to him anyway, as a gesture of thanks, and started to eat. The other guests watched her with curiosity, but eventually they lost interest and went back to their conversations. The hostess busied herself for a while until she found a moment to pour herself a drink and sit down.

"They should get used to us, here, yes?" she said politely to Caoimhe.

"I'm sorry?" Caoimhe swallowed.

The hostess raised her chin to indicate her other guests.

"They should get used to seeing us in the Undercity," she said again.

"I suppose so," Caoimhe said into her stew. She looked at the other table. "They do know we're on the same side now, don't they?" she asked, her eyes falling on the double headed axe leaning next to the table.

The hostess laughed. Caoimhe pulled her eyes back to her and smiled nervously.

"What are you doing here?" the hostess asked. "You seem a little young to join the legions."

Caoimhe's ears turned pink.

"I am traveling to Grom'gol," she repeated her standard answer.

Her hostess leaned on her hand. "Yes, you've said that already," she smiled. "Why?"

Caoimhe swallowed, "My father sent me," she said. She and Justyn had come up with a reasonable story for her travel. "I'm sorry," Caoimhe smiled, "but I didn't get your name."

"Tesier," she said.

"Tesier," Caoimhe repeated. "What are you doing here?" she asked. "I mean...I mean I wasn't aware there were...that we were here."

Tesier smiled, "Lordaeron has been here a long time," she said quietly, "not all of us abandoned it."

"Oh," Caoimhe flushed with embarrassment, "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." she really wasn't sure what she meant, but she didn't want to offend anyone.

"That's quite alright," Tesier said standing, "you're too young to remember those things anyway. We" she said "we" with a nasty inflection that made Caoimhe uncomfortable, "have a conveniently short memory when it comes to former allies." She picked up a decanter and went about refilling mugs for her other guests.

Caoimhe watched her, mortified that she might have somehow insulted her host. Her eyes wandered across to Heck, who was leaning back in his chair, his hands resting on the top of his walking stick, still watching her.

"I'm...I'm sorry," Caoimhe said. "I didn't mean to...did I insult her? I didn't intend.."

Heck waved off her concern as he pulled his chair over to her table. "Don't worry," he assured her. "She has been here a long time. Her skin is pretty thick."

Caoimhe watched Tesier as she interacted easily with the other guests. "She has?" she said, more to herself than to Heck.

"Not everyone ran when the city fell," he said.

"She's been here...all that time?"

Heck nodded. "She isn't the only one, you know."

Caoimhe looked at him, her surprise obvious. It had never occurred to her that when the city fell to the scourge anyone living might have survived to try and save it. It certainly never crossed her mind that any of the quel'dori would have stayed, especially after the Forsaken rose, literally from their graves, to claim it for their own. She finished the stew and quietly started to clean up after herself.

"Have you...been here a long time?" she asked Heck, looking at him sideways, trying to decide how long he might have been dead.

Heck laughed, "All my life and then some."

Caoimhe paled at the thought. "And did you...have you, known each other all that time?" she asked quietly.  
>Heck's mirth faded. It was hard to read an expression on his partially decomposed face, but she thought it might be almost wistful. He turned his head to watch Tesier.<p>

"I have known Tes most of that time, yes," he said.

"So you were here when...," Caoimhe started, amazed, but stopped short when Heck whipped his head around to look at her. She dropped her eyes to the plate she was scraping. "Miss Tesier," she said slightly too loud, "Where do you do your washing up?"


	4. Chapter 4

She spent the next few hours in Tesier's company. Heck wandered off after about an hour of being amused by Caoimhe's nervousness. He exchanged pleasantries with Tesier, wished Caoimhe a safe voyage and went about his day. Caoimhe took the opportunity to listen to the other guests that came and went. She had never been so casually close to orcs before, and she was used to trolls firing arrows at her, so to be so close with barely more than a second glance, especially as they all seemed familiar with Tesier was both reassuring and unsettling at the same time. She tried to catch names of people and places as the groups huddled and talked and ate and drank. Some were clearly merchants, traders, crafters, their only interest seemed to be getting their goods to the auction house which, she learned, was on yet another level below her. Others were clearly soldiers. Everyone carried weapons, which was not odd to her, but the savagery of the blades and the ornamentation they seemed to take to, especially the Forsaken, caught her staring on more than one occasion.  
>Tesier watched her with interest.<p>

"You haven't been out of Quel'Thalas much, have you?" she asked.

Caoimhe didn't turned her attention from the passing tauren. "No," she said honestly, "No, I haven't."

Tesier smiled, not unkindly. "If you were my daughter, I wouldn't send you all the way to Strangle Thorn, not these days."

"Why," she asked, pulling her attention away as the easily eight foot tall horned beast turned a corner, "Why, is it that dangerous?"

Tesier scoffed, "Strangle Thorn is dangerous in good times. Now?" She shook her head.

Caoimhe slid into a chair, "Is it so bad? I was told that the goblins are neutral."

Tesier shook her head, "It isn't the goblins you have to worry about," she looked at Caoimhe with some skepticism. "Why are you going to Grom'gol?"

Caoimhe dropped her eyes and studied the table. "I told you," she started.

"Yes, yes," Tes dismissed her, "but why?"

"I was told it was the only place I could go to get to Booty Bay," she said quietly.

"Ah, so your destination isn't Grom'gol itself," she said, slightly more satisfied.

Caoimhe shook her head, but was loath to go any further.

"What does your father do?" she asked, starting to dry the dishes.

"He's a jeweler," Caoimhe answered, it was true enough, Bachanan had taken it up as a hobby in his youth.

"Ah," Tes said, nodding. "I would imagine it is hard to get what he needs to work now. Still, to send you all the way to Strangle Thorn..."

Caoimhe dried the dishes silently, aware that Tes was watching her. "Do you know when the Zeppelin will arrive?" she asked, trying to steer the conversation away from her motives.

Tes shook her head, "You never know with the goblins.". She grinned at Caoimhe, "so ready to leave?"

"I have never been comfortable in...in town," she said. "And underground is...I would just prefer to be...not underground."

Tes nodded but did not press the issue further. Caoimhe looked up from the dishes. "Miss Tesier," she started, "Have you ever met Lady Sylvanas?"

Tes looked at Caoimhe with a sudden sharp suspicion. "Why do you ask?"

Caoimhe looked back at the dish towel. "There are a lot of stories about her," she said quietly. "I just wondered if any of them were true. Is she really quel'dori?"

"Was," Tes corrected darkly.

Caoimhe swallowed and asked, "Have you met her?"

Tes eyed her guest, "I have," she finally said.

"Could I meet her?"

Tes stared blankly at Caoimhe. "You want to...what?"

"Meet her," Caoimhe said quietly, "I'd like to...meet her?"

Tes stared at Caoimhe for a few seconds more, "I should find out when the zeppelin will arrive." She turned sharply.

Caoimhe dropped the rag and followed her. "Ma'am, is that...is that not allowed?" she asked Tes. "I think...I think I might have something that belongs to her." Tes stopped short and truned around, clearly incredulous at the idea, "Or at least her family. I think...while I'm here," Tes continued to stare at her with a grim expression, "while I'm here I should...I should...return it?"

"You're serious," she said after a moment. Caoimhe wasn't sure why Tes might think she wasn't serious, but she nodded anyway. Tes was quiet, she crossed her arms. "No one here takes kindly to gawkers," she said defensively, "The Forsaken are a not a novelty."

Caoimhe furrowed her brow and tilted her head, "No," she said, "no, I would not think they are."

"This arrangement," she started, waving one hand toward Caoimhe, "not everyone agrees."

"Miss Tesier," Caoimhe said, "I am not sure what you are talking about, but, I..if I...if it isn't allowed," Caoimhe gave up trying to explain herself. "Thank you for your hospitality, ma'am," she collected her bag from under a table, "I will go."

Tes cursed under her breath. "No, no," she looked at Caoimhe who had just settled a poncho over her shoulders and was looking at the walkways for the one she entered. Caoimhe looked back at Tes. With a sigh the elder elf said, "I will see what I can do."

Caoimhe smiled.

Caoimhe sat in the corner of Tes's little improvised restaurant while Tes went to "see what she could do". She watched with fascination the pedestrians pass. A few patrons came, gave her odd glances and walked away. She made one attempt at serving a small group of Orcs, who declined rudely and stormed off. She didn't pay much attention to the insults, it wasn't a whole lot different than the way the squires talked to her when she was a page, but she was careful not to say much, she could only barely understand them anyway. Her Orcish had been learned mostly with Adynedd's help and she was only beginning to understand how inadequate it was. It made sense to her that Heck spoke Thalassian, if he had been a resident of the city when Lordaeron and Silvermoon were friendly. She sighed as she waited, watching another impossibly huge tauren pass by. He looked so top heavy, his horns stretching out in front of him and his massive shoulders supporting pauldrons that would have completely covered Caoimhe, she marveled that he didn't simply topple over.

"Odd looking, aren't they?" Heck asked.

Caoimhe stood when she heard his voice from behind her. She smiled a little.

"I have never seen the tauren before," she said, "I had only heard stories."

"You'd think they'd be all bluster and noise," he said, watching the focus of her curiosity yield the right of way to a goblin who was laden with boxes.

Caoimhe nodded, noticed the goblin and jumped.

"The goblins!" she exclaimed. She turned to Heck, "Does that mean the airship has arrived?"

"Likely," he said.

Caoimhe frowned. "I should go," she looked in the direction Tes had disappeared quite some time ago, "But..."

"Don't worry, they have to unload and restock, not to mention eat, carouse and gamble, before they take off again," he said, "Besides," he grinned, Caoimhe couldn't look at him when he did, it made her skin crawl, "I told Tes I'd take you to your meeting."

Caoimhe turned sharply. "Really?" she asked. He nodded. Caoimhe took a deep breathe, suddenly unsure if this had been a good idea, but she nodded and straitened her garments. "Now?" she asked.

Heck smiled, "Good a time as any," he said.

He led her down a ramp and across a bridge, under two massive arches. Caoimhe took in every detail, and every passing resident. It was not at all what she had expected. they crossed another bridge and traveled along what seemed like the outer edge of the city, but passages led deep into the walls and under ground and she could only assume it must be as wide, at least, as Lardorean itself.

"Why...why did Miss tessier not wish to bring me?" she asked.

Heck did not turn around as he answered, "She thought you'd be better received if you came with one of the Dark Ladies people."

Caoimhe considered this. "She doesn't consider herself one of Lady Sylvanas's people?" she asked.

"Not any more," Heck said.

Caoimhe frowned. They had come to a passage guarded by several of the blobby flesh golums at the entry lifts. She stayed close to Heck.

The hall was long and winding and taller than it needed to be by several stories. What it had been in the days of the kings of Lordearon, she couldn't guess. Their footsteps echoed in the emptiness above them, but soon she could hear voices, low at first, but clearer as they approached, despite the echoes. One was low and angry, it resonated at a register she didn't think any elf could naturally reach. Another was quick, male, she assumed, but she realized it could be a female orc. The loudest and sharpest was clearly a woman, clearly and elf, and clearly in command. Caoimhe's eyes widened as they crossed the chamber threshold.

There where three figures in deep discussion on a large raised platform in the middle of the chamber. It passed Caoimhe's mind that this must have been some kind of emergency command for the city, in its living days. There were others in the room, guards and advisors, mumbling quietly to one another, but all were watching the central conversation. she had been correct about the orc, he looked important, had heavy, complicated and decorated armor and wore the horde standard on a banner on his back. His escort stood at attention, his leutenant, a female who stood to his right, was no less impressive. He was argueing with a winged nightmare who outsized him twofold at least. This didn't seem to trouble the orc at all, he was standing eye to navel with the creature, growling up at him as if the demon were a lowly recruit who had stepped out of line. The demon was far from intimidated. It looked annoyed, actually, and had its massive arms crossed over its chest. it looked up at the third voice, looking for permission to squash the bug that buzzed around its midsection. As facsinating as the exchange was, Caoimhe could not take her eyes off the elf who stood in front of them. Lady Sylvanus stood, her amrs crossed, a grim expression on her face, listening to her advisors argue. Her skin was paler than death and her long white hair drew Caoimhe's eyes to face. And then Caoimhe caught her blood red eyes. Caoimhe sucked in her breath.

The banshee Queen looked at Caoimhe and the hunter felt her blood freeze. She squeezed the amulet so hard in her hand it almost broke the skin. Sylvanus was beautiful, and terrifying. She held up a hand to stop the conversation behind her. Suddenly, Caoimhe found all eyes where on her.

Sylvanas glanced at Heck, who stood next to Caoimhe. Heck bowed deeply and the dark lady smiled, a little. It was not reasurring. She turned her cold gaze back to Caoimhe.

"What is it you want," she paused slightly, "hunter." Her voice was as cold as her stare and Caoimhe's mouth went dry as she tried to talk. "Hury up," the queen snapped, "My time is valuable."

Caoimhe found her voice, barely. "Ma'am," she squeaked. "I think...I think I have something that...that may belong to you."

Sylvanas raised one eyebrow, a skeptical look fell over her face. she waved a hand to dismiss her council. They turned slowly to their own conversations, but quietly and with one eye on their lady.

'Well?" she demanded.

Heck gave Caoimhe a nudge toward the steps.

Sweating bullets in the chilled chamber, caoimhe stepped forward. Sylvanas was increadibly tall, even for a Quel'dori. Caoimhe was short for her age and the difference felt massive to her as she looked up at the Forsaken's queen. She extended her hand with the amulet.

"I found it...a while ago," she said quietly. "Near Windrunner spire." Sylvanas snapped her cold eyes from the amulet to Caoimhe. Chills went down Coaimhe's spine.

Sylvanas snatched the necklace from her hand and examined it, a look of surprise coming over her face. At first, Caoimeh thought the undead queen looked pleased. sad, but pleased. Then, as quickly as the expression crossed her face it was gone. She frowned at Caoimhe.

"How can you possibly think this is of any importance to me," she hissed. she tossed the necklace on the floor behind her.

The conversation in the chamber stopped completely. Caoimhe reached out reflexively to catch the amulet. She had carried it for years, to watch it tossed away caused her a pang of regret. Sylvanas narrowed her eyes at Caoimhe.

"Remove yourself from my presence," she said. She turned her back sharply on Caoimhe. stunned, Caoimhe just stared at her. She felt Heck's bony hand on her shoulder and glanced at him.

He nodded toward the exit. Caoimhe frowned at Sylvanus's back.

"Caoimhe," Heck said quietly. "You did what you came to do."

Caoimhe nodded and started to follow him toward the hall.

"Leave," she heard Sylvanas say.

Caoimhe glanced over her shoulder, but the comment was not directed at her. Sylvanas's council had started to exit the dias, dispersing to tables and alcoves around the walls. Caoimhe stopped long enough to watch Sylvanas bend down, pick up the amulet and sigh. Following Heck out of the chamber, Caoimhe smiled.

* * *

><p>"Well," Heck said as they emerged into the large outer ring of the Undercity. "that seemed to go well."<p>

Caoimhe suddenly realized that she was breathing again and the rush of blood to her head made her dizzy.

Heck laughed, "You got further than most."

'What do you mean?" she asked, whiping her forhead with her sleeve.

"Most of the living take one look at her and decide it isn't worht the risk," he grinned. Caoimhe really wished he would stop smiling at her.

"Well," she said, quietly, "it..it jsut seemed like i should return it."

Heck nodded to himself as they wound their way back up to Tesier's little kitchen. Tesier was busy with other customers, but she was clearly surprised to see the two of them. She hurredly finished what she was doing and swept her way toward them.

'Well?" she asked Heck, a mix of curiosity and concern in her voice. She glanced at Coimhe, her expression cross, but it softened when she took in the hunter's plale face.

Heck nodded, "Went quite well, she held her ground without passing out."

Tes offered Caoimhe some water. She took it with a smile.

"The zeplin won't be disembarking tonight," she said. "You will have to spend the night here."

Caoimhe nearly choked. "I..uhm..that's ok," she said, wiping the water from her chin. "I can...I can sleep outside."

Tes frowned and Heck chuckled. Caoimhe looked back and forth betweent he two of them. "No..no offence, ma'am," she said, "I...I just...I'm not one for...for underground."

Heck laughed outright. "She can stay with me," he said.

Caoimhe looked at him, unsure whether or not to accept.

"S'all right, elf," he said, "I think it'll be more suited to you than here. As long as the rain has stopped." He grinned at Caoimhe, "Got a few holes in the roof I hadn't patched up yet." He stretched and all of the bones in his back snapped in a sickeningly permanent way. "Gettin' old, ya know."

Tes sighed at him, "alright, but let me send some food with you," she looked at Caoimhe. "Trust me, he could never cook."

* * *

><p>Heck's home, or what he called home, was better than the Undercity itself only in that it was not in the Undercity itself. The left Tes's company and nwent back up the lifts to the ruined bell tower. Brahm swept down and circled Caoimhe, chittering happily now that they were reunited. The ground was wet from the rain, and the ichor laden moats were full with water, but the clouds were holding for now. Heck looked at the clouds and nodded, leading his guest past the orb chamber and through the main gates of the once city.<p>

They stood at the top of the small rise that the city stood on. Caoimhe was struck with a saddness for the place, it's torn banners still waiving pitifully from standards on the walls of the old city gates.

"The zephlin leaves from that tower," Heck said, pointing to a srtucture on the next hill. It was clearly not of the same build as the rest of the city, looking rather like it had been assembled from reclaimed pieces of the fallen buildings. she nodded. They traveled down the hill and east along a wide paved road. Then north at a cross road. caoimhe turned to see that the tower was in sight, marking her way by the landmarks they passed.

"How far..how far is your home?" she asked. 'I have been calling Brill home," he said.

Caoimhe shook her head, she was unfamiliar with it.

"Safety in numbers, you know," he mumbled. "Still a lot of scourge wandering the hills."

Coimhe blinked and was unable to hide her surprise, "I thought...I thought that..."

Heck looked sideways at her and grinned, "Thought we were all scourge?"

Again Caoimhe flushed with embarasement. "No..that isn't what I meant."

Heck laughed. "The scourge brings back the body, however far gone," his laughter turned bitter. "It doesn't bring back the mind."

Caoimhe thought about this, about all the mindless corpses shuffling toward Silvermoon. She shuttered involuntarily.

"For thank, we thank our Lady," he said with obvious reverence and pride.

Caoimhe wasn't sure she could call it a blessing but wasn't about to argue with her host. She could see smoke curling up over the hills ahead.  
>"so...so there is a town?" she asked.<p>

Heck nodded, "Many of us have congegated in Brill," he said, "keep a forward watch, if you will. take out the mindless ones before they can find each other and do any real damage."

"If they are mindless...don't they attack each other?" she asked.

Heck thought about this. "I've seen it happen," he said, "but more they are like a," he searched for a good word, "a swarm. One bug, that don't bother nobody. a whole bunch? they all get orders from a queen or a soldier and they all move together."

Caoimhe rather thought this could describe the Forsaken themselves, but again, she didn't say anything. She just nodded instead.

They crested the hill and started down into the town. Caoimhe looked at the ruined village. She almost asked if this was their destination, but she realized that would be insulting. It was a town, she could tell from the activity, but it was a town that had seen better days. the buildings were burned and crumbling, the windows broken and the road through town destroyed, but there was life. Or the nearest the forsaken came to it. Even as the sun started to set, fires where burning and lumber was being chopped, she could hear the sound of a blacksmith. Heck turned, skirting the main street through the little town and led her into the back door of a small modest house. She was glad it had stopped raining.

The roof of Heck's home had completely collapsed on one side. All but the heaviest of beams had been carted away. The walls on that side still stood, but tilted precariously in. He had reinforced them with stout buttresses, but all of the furniture was moved to one side. The hearth was still under cover, in the opposite corner, and he had made up for the lost space by fashioning a make shift loft where the secure portion of roof remained. All in all, it was a well appointed lean to.

Heck pointed rather unceremoniously to the loft, "You can sleep up there," he offered. "I don't use it much, dry storage mostly. That roof corner is solid. Your bat can roost up there as well."

She climbed halfway up the ladder and took a peek. It was tidy, organized, dry. She looked down at him from the ladder.

"I am not putting you out, am I?" she asked.

"Oh no," he waved off her concern. "Don't really need to sleep much when you're dead."

Caoimhe stared at him blankly and nodded. She just couldn't tell if he was trying to be funny. She climbed up the ladder and lay her poncho down on the loft floor. With her head on her pack and Brahm swooping happily overhead, she fell into an exhausted sleep.

* * *

><p>"Hey elf," she heard someone talking under her. she couldn't have been asleep more than a few minutes. She heard voices below her, familiar, gruff. She shook herself awake and crawled to the edge of the loft. The sky above the caved in roof was red with the rising dawn and Caoimhe frowned at the clouds on the horizon.<br>"Down here, girl," Heck said. She dropped her gaze and smiled, a look she tried to maintain as she saw him in the light of dawn. "There's someone here to talk to you."

Caoimhe's smile dropped suddenly. Who knew she was here? Had she compromised her mission already? She swung her legs over the loft and jumped to the floor below. She straitened and bowed uncertainly to the party before her.

At Heck's "door" was Miss Tesier, and next to her was the Orc second who had stood in Lady Sylvanas's chamber. Behind her was another guard, or Caoimhe assumed he was a guard, he wasn't nearly as impressively decorated and his sword was only half his size, unlike hers, which seemed it would have been impossible to wield should she actually draw it. She eyed Caoimhe with some suspicion.

"Won't you come in?" Heck offered, and with a grin added, "make yourself at home."

Tes rolled her eyes at him, but the orc nodded a curt thanks and stomped in. Caoimhe stayed where she was as the orc turned to adress her directly.

"Lady Sylvanas was impressed with your," she eyes Caoimhe again as if she doubted the assesment, "nerve."

Caoimhe bowed a little, "Th..thank you." She really wasn't sure what to say.

"There is a zephlin returning to Orgrimmar in two days," she continued, "Lady Sylvanas has asked that you take a message to Thrall on her behalf."

Even Heck looked stunned. Caoimhe was suddenly, immediately relieved. she wouldn't have to go all the way to Stranglethorne to find her way to Orgrimmar. Then she realized everyone was still staring at her.

Tesier took her hesitation as reluctance and stepped forward, latching her arm into Caoimhe's and pulling her out of earshot. "Excuse us," she said to the group.

Heck looked at the orc and shrugged. "Elves."

Tes turned Caoimhe and stared intently at her. Caoimhe recoiled slightly at the intensity of the other Sin'dori's gaze.

"Do you understand what this means?" she asked.

"I...well," she looked between them. "of...of course," she said.

"Do you? Because this could make a tremendous difference in how the horde views Silvermoon," she had a fierce grip on Caoimhe's arm. It occurred to the hunter that Tesier had sacrificed much and suffered plenty for her choice to stay in Lorderon. Caoimhe lay her hand over Miss Tesier's and slowly started to peel her fingers from around her biscep.

"Yes, Miss Tesier," she nodded as she did so. "I completely understand."

Tes's face seemed to even and her shoulders relaxed. Caoimhe turned back to the waiting emmisarry. "I would," Caoimhe straitened, "I would be honored."

Heck smiled, the orc grunted, and Tesier let out a sigh of relief.

* * *

><p>The unexpected invitation solved her problem of getting to Orgrimmar, but it did leave her in the rather unnerving position of spending several days in the company of the Forsaken. Tesier immediately offered to put her up until the zeppelin departed, but that meant staying in the Undercity, and while she did not want to be impolite, the thought of several days in the glorified, however well appointed, crypt made her very uneasy. Heck came to her rescue.<p>

"If you don't mind trading the loft for some chores," he said, "I could use some assistance here."

Caoimhe tried not to look overly relieved for Tes's sake and she managed a sound nod and said, "That seems fair." She looked to Miss Tess, "you would not feel slighted?"

Tes waved a hand dismissively and said, "Of course not." She glanced up at what passed for Heck's roof, "but do seek me out should it start to rain."

The Orc gave her the name of the Zeppelin captain and told her the letter would be waiting with him when the vessel was set to leave and with a boisterous "For the Horde!" that sent shivers down Caoimhe's spine, turned sharply and left.

And then she was left alone with Heck in his crumbling house. He stoked his chin and stared at her thoughtfully.

"Suppose we should have spoke to her about breakfast," he mumbled.


	5. Chapter 5

It was some sort of miracle that kept the airships afloat. That and the constant banging and cursing of the goblin engineers. Even so, Caoimhe stood on the bow of the unlikely vessel, her hands wrapped in the rigging to steady herself, and leaned into the wind. Never mind that every strong wind threatened to swing the basket like hanging ship out from in under the balloon that held it aloft. Never mind that the ropes had been repaired so many times they could hardly be called rope. And never mind that she had, prior to a week ago, never left Quell'Thallas and was now leaving the Eastern Kingdoms entirely with nothing but air and water under her feet. The only sadness she felt was in leaving Brahm behind, but Heck would take good care of him, until she came back. None of that seemed at all consequential, so enraptured was she by the freedom of the flight. The goblins had no problem on deck, they scurried around the ship, completely comfortable with the pitching and tossing. The few other passengers had hunkered down below with the cargo, which was also where the galley sat. Mostly Orcs and one lone forsaken who kept himself to himself, they were not overly pleased with the goblins and less pleased with their zeppelins, they grumbled and drank and generally ignored her. She didn't speak much orcish anyway, so all she was really able to manage was, yes, no, and thank you. But she was pretty sure she understood "What do you want?" "Give me that" and "Move!". It wasn't a difficult language, as far as she could tell, and she sat at the end of the galley table at the meals and listened to them talk, trying to learn the language and follow the conversation, then she would go back on deck and feel the wind.

"Ech at tad utaplac." Came a voice from behind her. She had no understanding of Gutterspeak.

"I'm...I'm sorry," she said in Thalassian while climbing her way down to the deck, "I don't...I don't understand."

The forsaken laughed, "I can tell."

Even after spending time with Heck, she was not comfortable with the dead. With Heck, she had managed to just ignore it. He was wrapped in a cloak, but she doubted it was against the chill. How could the chill possibly hinder him. She wondered if he could feel the wind blowing through the open spots in his rotting flesh. She looked at his face. A leather strap wrapped across his eyes. It was slightly less disturbing than Heck's glowing, empty eye sockets.

She bowed stiffly, "Is...is there something I can...," she shifted a little, nervously, "did you need something?"

"You are out of place," he said.

Caoimhe raised her chin a little defensively. Remembering Heck's advice, she said, "I am on important business for Lady Sylvanas."

"I know," he said, flashing a grin devoid of most teeth.

"You do?" she said. "How?"

He grinned and nodded, "Never mind how. You're going to need some help."

Caoimhe frowned, in orcish she managed, "What do you want."

The Forsaken laughed, a hollow, rasping sound that sent little puffs of dust into the air from his chest. Caoimhe took a step back from him.

"Not bad," he said, "but you see, that's what I mean. How many orcs do you think speak Thalassian?" He watched her for a reaction, "How many of them do you think will give you the time of day?"

Caoimhe's face didn't change, but the Forsaken had a good point.

"So, how will you help me?" she asked.

"It's a long trip," he said, "you should learn orcish."

"And you could teach me?" she asked.

He nodded.

"But what do you want in return?"

He smiled. "You've been tight to that satchel," he said. "Must be important."

Caoimhe frowned and clamped a hand down on the small travel pack she carried. "Only to me," she said.

"Come on," he said, "You've got a small stash of gems." He watched Caoimhe's let out her breath and took it as a confirmation. "You could surely part with some?"

Caoimhe was relieved, momentarily. "How do you know...how do you think you know...what I might be carrying?" she asked.

"Brill is a small village," he said. "and you are, at least at the moment, a novelty."

"Those gems...," she started slowly, "I am supposed to trade them...for..for the ones my father needs."

He nodded, appreciating her position, "But how much do you think you will get, if you don't speak the language? How will you find the traders? Who is going to help you, Quel'dori?"

She frowned and ran her hand over the bag. The elves of Silvermoon might call themselves Sin'dori now, but it was evident not everyone trusted that. "I...I suppose you have a point."

He smiled, satisfied he had sold her on the idea. "Of course I do. The orcs are different, they don't like weakness. They don't like either of us much," he jerked his head toward the open stair to the galley bellow, "Trust me, had that lieutenant not preceded you, you'd've met an unfortunate accident by now, I'm sure."

Caoimhe's face went white. "Preceded me?"

He nodded, "Some orc lieutenant came on board, told the blokes below they were to leave you be. Not a lot of love lost between them and...well them and anybody really. me they just don't like." He grinned. "Think about it," he said. "I'm sure we could work a fair price."

Caoimhe nodded at him, her face set in a look of determination. "We will see to a fair price. After tonight's meal then?"

He nodded. And Caoimhe went in search of a goblin.

* * *

><p>"You couldn't have made a better choice," the goblin said as he looked over the blood red gem. "My assessments are top notch. No one one this ship knows more about appraisals than I do." He looked up at her through the lens he wore in one eye. "Where did you say you came by this?"<p>

"My father," she said simply.

"And why do you want to part with it?" he asked.

"I need...I need to pay for some services," she bit her lip.  
>The goblin dropped the lens into his hand and peered up at her. "What kind of services?"<p>

Caoimhe blushed, "Language lessons."

The goblin stared at her for a moment and then laughed. "Oh, oh good. You worried me for a minute there."

Caoimhe tilted her head and stared at him, not quite understanding what might be so odd about language lessons.

"Well, seeing as you can't find these outside of the northern end of the Eastern Kingdoms, I would say you've got a fair piece to bargain with," he looked at her. "What're you being charged, if I may ask?" He leaned on the table, a picture of professional interest.

"I...he didn't say," she admitted, "Only that we would work a fair price."

"And who is he?"

Caoimhe frowned and then turned pink at her own ignorance. "I...I did not get his name," she admitted, "He is a Forsaken, the only...the only one I have seen, of the passengers."

"Ah," he said, rolling his eyes, "His name is Dom, or at least that's how I know him. Well, he'll honor his bargain, but watch what you pay."

Caoimhe quirked her face a little. "What...what would you pay?" she asked.

"Me?" the goblin chuckled, "Nothin', but I'm not you. Depends on what its worth to you."

She thought about this. "Would this pay for my passage?"

"Your passage was paid by the Forsaken," he said, a little darkly, as if it was some kind of hex.

"I know," she said, ignoring his tone, "but would this pay for my passage?"

"Easily, twice," he nodded at his assessment.

Caoimhe considered. She nodded to herself. "Thank you," she said. She extended her hand for the gem.  
>The goblin turned his shoulder slightly and put the gem back up to the light. "Now, about my fee."<p>

"Fee?" she asked alarmed.

The goblin looked from the gem to her surprised face. He was about to say something rude, thinking clearly she was trying to get out of paying for his obviously valuable advice, but the look on her face told him she was out of her element.

"Services, all services, come with a price."

Caoimhe shook her head. "Of course," she smiled, "I did not mean to imply...of course."

He stood expectantly.

She considered, "Would you...would you hold this? Until I work a price with...Dom?" she looked at his sceptical face and added, "I would expect he would not attempt to take advantage of you."

"Ah," the goblin waved a finger. "I see. Alright," he agreed, and extended his long fingered hand.

"Will you meet me after dinner and I will settle my debt?" she asked.

He smiled and nodded.

* * *

><p>She ate her meal quietly, at the end of the long table, listening to the orcs. Dom sat in a corner, he didn't seem to eat, much like Heck, which suddenly made her wonder if they ate at all. The goblins sat at their own table. All and all it was a fairly inhospitable dining room. At the end of the meal, Dom approached her.<p>

"Have you considered?" he asked her shortly.

"Yes," she said, "And I agree."

A crooked smile crossed his face as he nodded. "Good, a good choice. Now, a price."

Caoimhe smiled, "I have that as well. Or rather, it is being held for me."

The Forsaken looked puzzled.

"You are correct," she explained slowly, "about what I carry." She glanced around for her appraiser, catching his eye at the other table. He excused himself and made his way over. "But I could not...could not just leave them with my hammock while I looked about the ship." She smiled at him as he frowned. "So I entrusted my valuables to the safety of one of the crew." It was a bit of an exaggeration, but as she saw it, if the goblin wanted to get his fee, the Forsaken would have to pay it and if the goblin didn't give her gem back, the Forsaken would see to it she got it back, if only for his own self interest.

"Alright," he said.

"You're name is Dom?" she asked.

"That is what they call me," he said.

"My name is Caoimhe," she said.

"yes."

"And I will accept your offer of language lessons," she said.

"In exchange for one of those gems?" he asked.

"Almost," she said. "I will also need," she watched his expression, but it was impossible to read the features on his dead face, "I will also need a guide in Orgrimmar. As you pointed out, they are not likely to give me the time of day."

"In exchange for one of the gems," he said.

"Yes," she said, "but as that is all the currency I possess, it will also have to cover the goblin's fee." She thought he looked surprised. "He has assured me the gem is worth...is worth the cost of both our passages, so I believe...I believe the bargain is fair."

He looked her over, or seemed to, she couldn't tell with that blindfold. He looked at the goblin, who seemed to enjoy the exchange, seeing as he would be getting paid out of the deal.

"I accept you terms," he said briefly, extending his hand to her.

She accepted it. It crunched a little in her ungloved grasp and she suppressed the urge to shiver that came over her.

"When do we begin?" she asked.

He smiled and opened his hands, "I have all the time until we reach Orgrimmar."

"Excellent,": she said, almost gleefully. "right now then?"

He nodded and said, a bit ruefully, "Let us begin with coin."

* * *

><p>The days passed quickly, with something to occupy them. What at first she thought would be simple in fact was far more complex than she imagined. Much of the language had to do with implied tone. Caoimhe was unused to raising her voice in her own language, let alone in a foreign tongue, but she realized that to simply speak in the assertive, she might actually have to yell.<p>

Sitting at the long table after the meal, Dom was shaking his head.

"No, no," he said. "No one is going to even LISTEN to you that way."

Caoimhe blew out a hard sigh. She tried one more time to ask for a bunk for the night in the heavy tongue. Dom shook his head. The orcs at the table laughed.

Caoimhe looked at them sideways. "So...what did I...actually say?"

One female orc, as burly as any of her male companions, said, "I don't think you want to know."

At first Caoimhe looked startled. It was the first thing any of the orcs had said to her aside from "get out the way", since she got on board. Then she realized she actually understood what the orc had said, and Caoimhe smiled.  
>"So...so how should it be said?" she asked, as best she could.<p>

The orc rolled her eyes and repeated the phrase.

Caoimhe tried again. All the orcs laughed.

"Better," the she-orc admitted. She gestured for Caoimhe to continue.

Caoimhe tried again.

The orcs nodded, still amused.

"Now try... Ag ee oo pa," she grinned.

Dom covered his masked face with his hands.

"Don't say that," he said quietly.

Caoimhe looked at him and asked in a low voice, "Why, what does it mean?"

"Just don't say it," he advised.

And so the game began, the orcs trying to coax her into saying more and more outlandish, likely vulgar, phrases, Caoimhe grinning and complying and Dom translating, and all of them drinking until the entire galley was in a table pounding uproar. Even though much of what the orcs suggested made her blush, the she-orc would occasionally offer useful pronunciation suggestions, followed by tips on attracting an appropriate orcish mate, which was generally in line with the gist of the suggestions from the rest of her companions.

Despite the initial tone of the jibes, Caoimhe swayed off to her hammock cheered and with a whole new appreciation for the orcish language.


	6. Chapter 6

By the time the airship came into view of the Durrotar coast, her crash course had yielded fair results. Dom was reasonably convinced she could find a room, find a meal and count the money without getting swindled. He also allowed that no one expected her to speak like an orc, so her basic understanding of simple pleasantries was enough to get her by without insulting anyone. Of course, everything she said was in the present tense, there's only so much a person can learn in one crossing of the ocean.

When the goblin on deck called that land had been sighted, Caoimhe excused herself from the lesson and climbed to the highest point she could without being in the way. The thin grey line grew into jagged shapes. Small islands dotted the coast and red cliffs rose up from the horizon. Ships could be seen, fishing vessels and trolls in long double dug outs. The airship swept over the coast and across a dry, cracked landscape. Like clay baked too long, the entire surface seemed over cooked, with one long fissure leading up to a monstrous fortress. Caoimhe gaped.

The walls of Silvermoon, before the fall, had been graceful, inviting, clean and luminous with ancient magic. The walls of Orgimmar looked as if a mountain had exploded and dropped the debris at the mouth of the tremendous fissure, complete with broken trees and felled houses. It was dry and dusty and brutish. Red and black banners with the horde's battle insignia hung from wooden gangplanks and pointed logs. Watch fires poured dark smoke into the already dry air. Caoimhe was fascinated.

"Better get your things together," Dom called up into the rigging, 'we'll be disembarking soon."

* * *

><p>The zeppelin swayed along side a skinny stone tower with a wide platform at the top. Ropes went out from the ship to secure the docking and a wide plank was dropped to bridge the gap. The whole tower seemed to sway. Caoimhe lept happily across, thanked the ship hands and without any seeming concern for her own safety, made a dash for the stairs down.<p>

Dom stopped her at the bottom of the steps.

"Know where you're going, Sin'dori?" he asked.

Caoimhe frowned at the trail that led from the tower, near some squat hovels and around the huge stone walls.

"No," she admitted, "but I am guessing that way." She smiled at him, "You are my guide, yes?"

"You hired me to do as much," he said.

"Then lets go," she said with an eagerness he found irritating.

"Why not take a little time?" he asked following her.

She frowned at the road. "No," she said, "I see no reason to wait. I'd like to get it done with."

He grinned, "Get what done with?"

Caoimhe blinked, she hadn't meant to say anything about why she was actually coming to Orgrimmar.

"Just...just help me find my way," she said. "I'm sure...I'm sure I can figure out the rest on my own."

He shrugged, even though she couldn't see him.

"And where do you need to go?" he asked.

"Lets get inside, and then we will discuss it," she said.

He shrugged again.

The path had brought them around to a road and directly in front of the most brutish and dangerous looking place Caoimhe had ever seen. Where the Undercity had looked sad to her, torn and broken, this looked like a place of defiance. The gates where massive, the logs as tall as ship masts and three times as thick, jutting out from them, topping them. There was nothing graceful or friendly about the structure, and there never had been. It was built as a fortress, and one that was intended to make the oncoming attacker, or causal visitor, think twice.

"Safe travels, elf," the she orc from the airship passed her as she stared at the massive entrance.

"Thank you," she returned in orcish, automatically.

The orc grunted as she continued on.

When they reached the city side of the gate, Dom watched with a grin as Caoimhe's face registered the size of the place. Traders were everywhere, dusts trails followed worgs as riders charged through the unpaved streets. Arguments rose with laughter and everyone was heavily armed.

"Where is it you need to go?" Dom asked, walking past her.

She started to follow him without really watching. "I need to find the Sin'dori," she said.

Dom stopped, she almost ran into him.

"What Sin'dori," he asked.

She looked at him, then at the gathered crowds. She was indeed, the only elf in sight. Her ears turned pink. "There...there is an ambassador, a Magister, I need to find her." She was sure he would have rolled his eyes if he had them. He started to walk toward the traders. "And...and I have to deliver a letter to Thrall."

Dom stopped, turned back to her and grinned. "Finding him is the easy part. Seeing him, that might be a different story," he closed the distance and dropped his voice.

"Why do you need to see Thrall?"

She swallowed, "Because I am on an important errand for Lady Sylvanas."

He grinned again and headed down a different path deeper into the city.

It didn't take long, there many Sin'dori outside of the area where commerce was done. Those she saw regarded her with as much surprise as she regarded them. There weren't very many Forsaken either. There where, however, Trolls, and a greater number of Tauren than Caoimhe had expected. Being this close, she couldn't help but stare. Dom lumbered down the ramp that led to the meeting hall.

"Not afraid they'll bite?" he asked her, watching her fascination with a young Tauren who was wailing mercilessly on a practice dummy set up in the nearby training yard.

"Do they?" she asked, surprised.

Dom laughed. "Not usually," he admitted, "But don't get on their bad side." He sobered quickly. "Your Magus is here," he said indicating the building. I believe you can do without me now."

She looked a little surprised. "Already?"

A quirked expression crossed his face. "Attached so soon?" he grinned, a little wickedly.

"No!" she gasped, causing his face to fall, "I mean, no, I just...how will I find Thrall?"

Dom unceremoniously jerked his thumb back toward the building. "In there," he said coolly. "Your Magus keeps impressive company. A friend of your father's?"  
>Caoimhe looked back toward the tauren, who was now arguing with a very loud orc, apparently over technique. She was relieved the argument was so loud, it gave her something to look at other than Dom. She could tell the fibs she had told to keep her missives secret did not blend together well. She nodded anyway.<p>

"I should...I should see her," she said. She forced herself to turn back to the Forsaken. "Thank you," she said, and not without sincerity, "The lessons were most valuable." She extended her hand.

Surprised, he shook it, grumbled and nodded. "Be well, elf," and then as he walked away. "Be careful."

She nodded in return and spun to take in the entirety of the meeting hall. Fort, really, she decided. She took a deep breath and marched, heart in her throat, into its darkness.

The hall was dim and smokey from the many torches that lined the walls. The guards had stopped her, taken her bow and her swords, unceremoniously pushed her into the antechamber and told her the "others" would come soon. She garnered a few odd looks as she walked past guards and advisers. She was about to enter the main hall, she could see a huge chair, furs, tusks, beams and a cluster of orcs, all heavily armed, gathered around a table. A few Tauren towered over them, a Forsaken hovered off to the side, seemingly disinterested in the discussion.

"Girl!"

Caoimhe spun around to the a passage that wrapped into the darkness. The voice was smooth, high and feminine and spoke in Thalassian. Despite the sharpness of it, she sighed with relief.

The magister and her small entourage stopped in front of Caoimhe and looked her over. There where four of them, the Magister, a priest, a knight and what she assumed was a functionary. They where collectively followed by two orc "escorts", heavily armed. Caoimhe bowed deeply.

"Ma'am," she said, as formal as she could.

"Civility at last," the magister remarked to the priest quietly. She glanced into the hall and turned to Caoimhe. "Follow me." And she turned sharply back the way she came, the entourage following. The elves started down the hallway, the orcs waited. Caoimhe realized she was now attached to the magister, for good or bad, and thus would be under guard. She nodded sharply to each guard, as she had seen the orcs do as they passed one another, and followed behind them down the hall.

The rooms they had been assigned where simple, clean and to someone who had been sleeping in the woods for over a year, more than adequate. To the Sin'dori emissary, it was next to a prison. She had prettied it as best she could. Pillows and scarves covered hide beds and the sparse window had been dressed with drapes and candles. Incense burned to cover the smell of the city and a heated pot of water let steam into the air to combat the dryness. Caoimhe crossed the thresh hold and closed the door behind her. She stood there, waiting.

The entourage dispersed to beds, the priest took up a small lap desk and the magister lounged on a couch in the center of the room, frowning at Caoimhe.

"What unfortunate accident landed you here, girl?" she asked.

Caoimhe blinked, "I...I have a message for you," she started, talking to the magister, but looking at the priest, "from...from the Order. From Silvermoon."

The magister straitened. The others suddenly seemed interested.

The magister looked her over with a newly critical eye. "You are not the messenger I was expecting," she said.

Caoimhe dropped her eyes, "No, ma'am."

She stood and walked over to Caoimhe, looking at her small travel satchel.

"Do you have it then?"

Caoimhe nodded. She unslung the satchel and set it on the floor, but rather than pulling out a scroll tube or even a letter, she produced a small hunting knife that the orcs had overlooked. The functionary jumped. Caoimhe stared at him quizzically, shrugged and slit the seams up both sides of her leather trousers. From the over-stitched patches, she removed carefully sealed papers pressed in waxed cloth. The functionary let out his breath. She handed them to the magister.  
>With a brief look at the messenger, she took the papers and sat back on the couch.<p>

"Draw the curtain," she said to no one in particular. The functionary obliged. She opened the packages, waved at the priest, who said a brief prayer. The room fell into an odd calm. Caoimhe marveled. The magister took a ring off her finger and, using it like a monocle, started to read the missives.

Her face tightened as she read. She moved to the next page. When she finished, she turned her eyes to Caoimhe.

"It should have taken you much longer to get here," she said simply.

Caoimhe nodded.

"How did you manage to come so fast?" she asked.

Caoimhe shifted nervously. "Good fortune, ma'am," she said.

The magister looked back at the last page of documents.

"You should be commended," she said. She lay one page over the other and looked at them through the ring again. "I am surprised you made it at all."

"Ma'am?" Caoimhe asked surprised.

The magister stood. "A difficult journey," she said, putting the ring back on her finger.

Caoimhe nodded.

There was a knock on the door. Caoimhe stepped aside as the priest moved to open it. An orc stood there.

"The Warchief has called for you," he said shortly.

The magister rolled her eyes, and glanced at Caoimhe. "No manners," she said in Thalassian, "there is no requesting with these people. It is all orders." She wrapped an official looking robe around her shoulders and allowed the functionary to lay a mantle over it. She instantly looked taller and more regal. "Come, girl," she said as she passed Caoimhe. "Come see what we've gotten into bed with."

Caoimhe stomach sank as she followed the group down the hall.

The hall was even more massive than it seemed from the anti chamber. Her eyes had adjusted, and although the hall was as tall as it was wide, she didn't find it as intimidating as she expected. The orc at the center of the room, seated in that massive chair, on the other hand, was another story entirely.

She had spent the passage across the ocean in close quarters with orcs, and they where big. Muscled and wide, Caoimhe knew in a strait test of strength, even the knights would be hard pressed to find a champion who could compete. Thrall was more intimidating by far.

Even sitting, he seemed huge. It may just have been that everyone was listening to him, or that she could see the magister, the knight and the priest all tense when they walked into the hall, but he had a huge presence. His voice boomed, but he wasn't yelling, and he looked remarkably calm, collected and thoughtful. It wasn't at all what she was expecting.

He addressed the magister.

"Your meal was well?" he asked through the Forsaken interpreter.

"Yes, thank you," she said, "The wine was much appreciated."

Her listened and nodded.

"You're delegation has grown by one?"

Caoimhe resisted the urge to shrink into the hide covered walls as the Warchief's eyes turned to her.

"Of a sort," she said, a slight twitch to her face. "She has informed me the documents your generals require will be arriving any day."

Caoimhe couldn't help but look surprised. Hadn't she just delivered the missives they were looking for?  
>Thrall nodded, but he wasn't looking at the magister. Caoimhe straitened under the scrutiny and tried to look both acceptable and invisible at the same time. Thankfully, the magister stepped forward and blocked her from his view. Caoimhe ley out a small sigh of relief.<p>

"Surely with this news, we can proceed," the magister was saying, the interpreter was translating and suddenly there was far more conversation from the many advisers. Caoimhe stood, fidgeting slightly, and watched and listened to it all. Just as she had when she was a page. The discussions did not last long. Thrall was polite, but resolute, his advisers less polite and more vocally resolute, that the Sin'dori would not receive the supplies until the missives arrived. The Forsaken seemed dispassionate and the Tauren stoic. The magister was angry. Her face was slightly red and her painted nails clicked every so slightly against each other.

"The Warchief would like to know if there is anything further you require during your stay?" the translator asked.

It was a very polite dismissal.

"No," the magister said through a tight smile, she turned, "Not that anyone here knows how to provide it anyway," she added under her breath as she walked away. The rest of her entourage followed.

Caoimhe stayed put.

The magister glanced at her, "Come girl," she said a bit more wearily than she intended. "You may as well get comfortable."

Caoimhe looked apologetically at the magister. "I'm sorry, Ma'am," she said, "I have business with the Warchief."

She had said it in Thalassian, but everyone, sin'dori or not, who heard her stopped and stared at her. She shifted uncomfortably.

"You what?" the magister asked, clearly annoyed.

"I have business with the Warchief," she said, pulling the sealed letter from her satchel.

The magister stepped forward, clearly looking to see the letter for herself. Caoimhe stepped back and pulled it slightly to her chest. The magister looked shocked, and then angry.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," she said, "but it is not...not Sin'dori business," she was genuinely pained by the look the magister gave her.

Caoimhe bowed deeply to the entourage, and then turned and headed for the cluster of advisers shouting and crowding around Thrall.  
>She pushed to the interpreter.<p>

"I need...I need to speak to the Warchief," she said.

He glanced at her, then waved her off.

Frustrated, she looked at the seal. Lady Sylvanas's seal. She waved it in front of his face. He caught sight of the seal and grabbed for it, but she pulled it back to her chest.

Again she said, "I need to speak to the Warchief."

The Forsaken frowned at her, she thought, then moved around the advisers to the back of the chair and said something to Thrall. he also pointed at her, a very long, bony, unpleasant gesture that led all eyes to her. She suddenly wanted to sink into the floor, but swallowed and stood her ground on shaky legs.

Thrall was looking at her again, tapping his enormous finger on his black armored knee.

"You have the floor,' the interpreter smirked.

Caoimhe cleared her throat and looked at the letter.

"I have...," she stumbled a little with the orcish.

"You will have to speak up," the interpreter said.

"I have a letter for you, sir," she said as loud as she could in her very under practiced orcish. "from..." she didn't know the proper title translation. She tried a few under her breath. Woman, no, she, no...not girl. She looked at the interpreter, "Lady? How do you say Lady?" she asked.

"From Lady Sylvanas?" Thrall asked in heavily accented but completely understandable Thalassian.

"Yes," Caoimhe said relieved and then stared at him, utterly surprised. "You speak Thalassian?" she asked, completely forgetting her manners.

"I understand more than I speak," he said, casting a glance at the magister. "You speak Orcish?"

"Not really," she admitted.

Thrall laughed, so did the rest of the room. Caoimhe relaxed a little. She tried again.

"I have a letter for you from," she looked at the interpreter for help, who shook his head and propted her with the correct word for Lady, "Lady Sylvanas." She finished. She held the letter forward and looked at the heavily armed guards who flanked his seat. "If...if I may?" she reverted back to her own tongue. He waved her forward and took the letter.

His hand was the size of her forarm.

"Thank you," he said, still clearly amused by her lack of lingustic skill.

"Thank you," she said in orcish, having no idea how to say you're welcome, ormif it even existed in his language. He laughed again and she retreated back toward the magisters party, not out of solidatiry, but mostly because she had no where else to go. The room waited while he read the letter.

His fetures became more serious as he read the short letter.

"You should have led with your recomendation, magister," he didn't bother with the translater, "Lady Sylvanas's word carries weight. Let us discuss some of your basic needs untill the rest of the word from the ambasador arives."

With a questioning and less than kind look at caoimhe, the magister swept back to the table with the same practiced smile she had before. Caoimhe let the bustle move past her as she made her way toward the antechamber.

"I want my weapons back," she said to the orc who had taken them. He grunted at her, looking over her head. She tried again, louder. "I want my weapons back."

"You are not staying with the others?" a gruff voice came from behind, also speaking understandable Thalassian. She turned to find an older orc. She'd say elder, given his scars and white hair and beard.

"Others?" she asked.

"The other Sin'dori?"

"Oh, no...sir," she said, "I am...I am just the messenger. May I ask you a question?"

He crossed his scared arms and looked down at her. "Yes," he finally said.

"Do many orcs speak Thalassian?"

He laughed. "No, very few. It pays to understand your enemies," he saw her tense at the word enemy, "or your allies."

"Oh, of course," she nodded. That is why the knights learn troll, after all. "Can I ask you another question?"

"yes?"

"I...I was told...my father told me Orcs have red skin...no one...no one here," his face had taken on an odd expression, "there are no orcs here like that."

"No, there are not," he said simply.

She wanted to ask if her father was wrong, or if there where others, but she thought perhaps she had taken enough of his time. He looked rather cross.  
>She bowed to him and turned once again to the guard.<p>

"I would like my weapons," she said.

"Give them to her," he said to the guard.

The guard saluted him and handed her her quiver, bow and swords.

She bowed to him, bowed to the elder, and walked into the sunlit city with no idea where she was going and completely thrilled by the realization.


	7. Chapter 7

There was a constant marker that ran along the border between the land they called the Barrens and Mulgore. There was a range of hills that grew into craggy mountains in the distance. Caoimhe stood atop the watchtower at the Cross Roads and stared out at the peaks with fascination.

"How long?" she asked the orc who manned the tower, "How long do you think it would take to get there on foot?"

The orc snorted at her and looked her up and down. "You'd never make it," she said shortly.

Caoimhe smiled. Her orcish was improving.

"What do you want?" the orc asked when she didn't leave.

The fascinated elf peeled her eyes off the wide expanse of open plains and turned to the watchman.

"The captain sent me?" she struggled with the words, it may have been a simple language but it was so heavy and clunky, "You have work that wants done?"

At first she thought she must have gotten the words wrong, because the she-orc just stared at her. Then she burst out laughing.

"You?" she laughed. She took a deep breath and calmed herself. She looked Caoimhe over, crossed her arms and grinned. "Alright, whelp," Caoimhe didn't understand whelp in orcish, but she assumed by the tone that it was meant to be derogatory, "We have a problem with predators. They attack travelers, they kill the livestock."

Caoimhe frowned with concentration and nodded as the orc spoke, "Hunt them down, get rid of the nuisance. I'll pay you a bounty for each kill."

"So hunt the stalkers?" she asked, to be clear. The glare was her answer and she smiled apologetically and climbed back down the tower.

* * *

><p>She had seen many predators out on the plains when she crossed the river and followed the road to through the Barrens. Unusual predators, fascinating animals that were similar, but at the same time so new. Horse looking herd animals with stripes, a collection of creatures that looked something like the grazers she woud hunt at home, but smaller and with long twisted horns instead of antlers, and odd looking creatures with impossibly long necks that ran gracefully across the plains. And all so new.<p>

The smoke rose over the plane. Whoever had made the fire wasn't too concerned about drawing attention to themselves. Most likely, the campers where orcs. This wad their land after all. She climbed up the nearest hill to get a better look.

She pulled from her bag a small spy glass and lay on the hill peering out into the open grassland beyond. She could see the little cook fire, a pot of something cooking in the little pit. She turned a little to her left and jumped with surprise and delight. The figure tending the fire had his back to her, bent over something she couldn't see. Long pale ears poked out of his dark hair. The camper was Quel'dori.

Caoimhe closed the glass ans started down the hill. Common sense dictated not walking up on his blind side. She rounded wide until she was approaching him from an angle. She was almost certain he could see. The grasses waves around her waste as she moved, hiding the sword that hung on her hip. It flashed though her mind that it hid his weapons as well. She dismissed it as an unnecessary concern. He was quel'dori in a strange land, just like she was.

She cupped her hands and called, "Hello?" The movement around the fire stopped. She called again.

The response was not hello, it came back, "Who's there?"

Caoimhe was a little confused. She was speaking Thalassian, couldn't he tell she was quel'dori?

"I...my name is Caoimhe...," she almost added her family name, but changed her mind. "Who are you?"

A black mop of hair popped up above the waving grasses. He peered at her, considering, and waved her to come to the fire. He didn't wait for her to join him, but turned and sat and disappeared back under the grass line.

As she waded forward, the little camp came into view.

He hadn't pitched a tent, but a bedroll was open and a few solid and heavy packs lay on top of it. A covered stack of what she knew must be armor sat with it. She stopped outside the ring of crushed grass.

"Hello," she said again.

He looked up from the fire and the small game he was skinning. He looked her over. Finally, he smiled, then went back to his skinning.

"You'll forgive me if i don't offer you my hand," he raised them both briefly, knife and all, so she could see the blood.

Caoimhe smiled and nodded at the top of his head. "Not at all," she said. "Do you need help?"

He looked up at her again, re-evaluating.

"Well i suppose you wouldn't be out here if you couldn't take care iof yourself," he took a few last tugs on the skin to free it from the carcass, then he stood and stretched.

"Set a spit, will you?" ha asked pointing a bloody knife at the fire.

Caoimhe dropped her own pack and started sifting through the pile of sticks to find a frew good forks for a spit.

"What are you doing out here all by yourself," she looked around for signs of others. "Are you by yourself?" she asked him directly.

He raised his eyes to look at her.

"I am," he said shortly.

Caoimhe waited for him to say more, but he didn't. She smiled at him and started setting the sticks in thw dirt to hild the the spit, digging at the dry ground with an arrow pulled from her quiver. He bent back over his work.

She watched him. She found himself fascinated by his hair. Most elves wore their hair long, his set just above his shoulders, that which had fallen out of the tie he held it back with. It was dark, too, almost black and the short cropped strands looked like he had cut them off himself with a hunting knife. Caoimhe's hand went unconsciously to the back of her head. She had done the same in a fit of frustration one day when the burs had made it impossible to comb through her own hair. She wondered if hers looked as wild.

"Done?" he asked finally standing, rabbit secured to a suitable stick.

She blushed slightly at having =been caught standing idle.

"Yes," she said, giving the stick one last shove, "All ready."

"he watched her as she backed away from the fire.

"I'm Thaden, by the way," he said stepping past her and setting the game to cook.

Caoimhe's face flushed deeper as she realized she had completely neglected to ask.

"Oh," she said by way of an apology, "Oh of course, I'm...I'm so sorry."

He smiled at her nervousness as he poured a little water onto his hands and rubbed the blood away. He offered her the canteen. She declined.

"Oh, I could not," she said, "you might need it."

"Not at all," he said, "There's a spring not too far," he motioned toward the craggy foot hills in the near distance.

"Oh, well," she took it a little reluctantly, "If you are certain."

He looked at her again, as if he was still unsure what to think, and started o make himself comfortable by the fire.

"So what are you doing out here, " he asked, "all by yourself?"

Caoimhe heard the question, but didn't answer right away. She was listening to his voice. He was very well spoken, a bit of a contrast to his surroundings.

"Alone?" he asked again.

"What?" she started, "Oh, yes, I am. Are you?"

He nodded, "I already told you I was."

"Of course," Caoimhe bit her lip. "Forgive me, I have not had the benefit of company, Quel'dori company, for a while."

He raised an eyebrow at he choice of words.

"'Quel'dori' in this area are hard to find," he said slowly.

"yes," she agreed, missing his tone entirely, "and I am told not to expect any further south."

He looked a little surprised. "Are you going further south?"

Caoimhe shrugged. "I thought I might," she said, "I have heard there is an entire valley with villages on spires," her eye widened at the thought of it. "I think that is something I should like to see."

Thaden seemed to relax. "So you are here of your own accord," he said more as a statement than a question.

She nodded, "And you?" she felt it only polite to ask. After all, she didn't' want to spend the entire evening talking about herself.

He turned the spit to one side. "I might go south, eventually, " he said.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked.

He poked at the meat with his knife.

"I took on some work with one of the outposts," he said.

"The orcs?" she asked.

He nodded. "There isn't anyone else, until you go further west. No one of consequence anyway," he sort of scoffed at the idea.

Caoimhe nodded a little, not sure what he meant by 'no one of consequence'. "Who else is out here?" she asked.

He looked at her over the fire, then over at her pack and quiver sitting a little bit apart from his own things.

"Are you any good with that?" he asked, nodding toward the bow.

She straitened, "Very."

"Would you be interested in some work?" he asked.

"Work?" she asked, "Well, yes, I suppose. I have already agreed to thin some of the area herd. I spent two weeks already on the hunt. A little hard to make much progress alone though. Hard to butcher and cure everything and then the hides," she pointed at the overstuffed pack. "It takes a lot of time."

"That's all hides?" he asked, surprised.

"Hides and jerky, mostly," she said. "I hate to waste anything, but the scavengers will take the rest."

He nodded in appreciation.

"Ever use that bow on anything other than animals?" he asked, turning the spit again.

Caoimhe blinked, "I..uhm...yes."

He looked at her, a contemplative from on his face. "I could use a good bow," he said. "If you're interested."

"If...if you need help," she agreed.

"Good," he said. His demeanor seemed to relax. He leaned back on his elbow and smiled. He offered the spit. "Rabbit?"

The sun set and Caoimhe unrolled her sleep sack and set a small snare to keep her pack safe while they slept.

"Do you want me to set one for you?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No," he pointed to the pile of armor, "I put my rations under there, anything tries to crawl into it, I'll hear."

"Even if your sleeping?"

Thaden's face went flat,"I'm a light sleeper." He stood and started to kick about the bedroll. He pulled the blanket off the pile of armor and rolled it up for a pillow. Then he shifted the plate around to repack his bags. Caoimhe gasped slightly.

"You...you are a paladin," she said, surprised.

Thaden stopped what he was doing, a little surprised himself. He followed her eyes to the insignia etched into his armor.

"I...yes," he said, flipping what was left of a cloak over the from of the breast plate while he tugged at his bags.

"But what are you doing all the way out here?" she asked, her interest in his presence on the plain rekindled.

He let out a heavy sigh. "I've been here for years," he said.

""In the barrens?" she looked at the landscape, as if she was surprised it could sustain him for years.

A frown fell over his features, "I was much further north."

"In Felwood?" she asked, excited. She started to dig in her pack. "Could you show me on a map? I have a map of..."

"You ask a lot of questions," he said staring at her, tossing the cloak back over the armor.

Caoimhe stopped searching for the map. She looked up at him. He was frowning as he lay down in his roll, his back to the fire. "Yes, I've been told that," she said quietly. She tied the pack back up and climbed into her bed roll. "Thank you for the rabbit," she said instead.

He was quiet for a moment before saying, "Don't mention it."

Thaden was an early riser. They stirred at about he same time and she set about to rekindling the fire. Thaden stood watching her, scratching the back of his head.

"I'm not used to having someone do that for me," he admitted after a few minutes.

Caoimhe smiled,"Well, to be fair, I have to eat too."

"Oh," he blinked, "Of course. There isn't any rabbit left."

"Where was the spring?" she asked as she stood and dusted her hands off on her pants.

'The spring?" he looked around as if he might have misplaced it. He may rise early, but he clearly wasn't awake.

"The spring? For water? You told me last night," she raised an empty skin to make her point.

"Oh" he rubbed his face with one hand, "yes, water. Toward the foot hills, there's a rock cluster, you can see the tip of it from here." she started to walk away. "Wait, wait," he called after her. "I have water."

She stopped and turned back, "Are you sure?"

He nodded and waved her back to the fire. he went back to his armor. She watched him as he searched. The armor was older, the order had adopted new insignia since the scourge attacked. He reemerged and extended a fresh skin to her.

"We can refill them after we break camp," he said as he passed it.

She smiled and sat back to the fire, pouring the water into a little tin to heat. "I only have the one," she said, "but it shouldn't take too long." She poked the fire. "I'll make yours first."

"Make my what?" he asked.

"Tea," she said as if that should have been obvious.

"Oh," he said, "I haven't had tea in," he thought about it, "I don't remember the last time I had tea."

Caoimhe looked shocked. "Oh, I have plenty to share," she said. "I will give you some."

"That's ok," he said, "After a while, you don't miss it."

She watched him as he pulled off his shirt and shook it out in the fresh air. "How," she was a little hesitant to ask, "How long have you been in Kalimdor?"

He shook the shirt one more time before pulling it back on. "About ten years," he said.

"That is...that is a little bit of time," she said to the fire. Ten years ago she was still living in her parents home with aspirations of knighthood. "Did you...do you plan to go back?"

"No," he said rather casually, he looked at her, "What about you? How long have you been here?"

"Me? Oh, I have only just arrived," she grinned.

"And do you plan to go back?" he asked.

Caoimhe's grin faded as she thought about it. "Not...not right away," she said. "There is too much to see here."

He sat down next to the fire. She threw a handful of tea leaves into the water.

"Do you have a mug?" she asked.

"Under my things," he waved toward the pile.

"I'll get it for you," she said. She took a moment to admire the sorely used and badly dented armor as she sifted under the chest plate for the mug. "You should have these repaired. I'm sure there's a blacksmith at the cross road town," she suggested. He shrugged. "It looks very well cared for to be so...so old," she tried again. he glanced at the armor and shrugged again. "What..what is it you needed an archer for?" she asked, giving up, as she sat back by the fire.

"Ah," he said, suddenly animated, a grin coming over his features. "Ever hear of Harpies?"

"Ha...harpies?" she asked, "No."

He looked surprised, "No? not even in stories?"

She shook her head.

Thaden's face too on a grim animation as he furrowed his brow and hunched his shoulders. 'They're fowl, nasty winged bitches," he said. Caoimhe jumped, actually startled by his profanity, if not his description. He seemed pleased that his imitation had elicited such a response. he settled back smiling, "They are, though, completely feral demon things with bodies like women and wings and claws like birds of prey. They steal livestock, pets, small children..."

"Children?" she asked, now genuinely concerned.

Thaden nodded, "The orcs nearby want them killed. They hired me to take care of it."

"I see," she said, mostly to herself.

"So," he asked, pulling some dried jerky from a bag he had dragged to the fire side. "I thought a strong bow might make the job a little easier. It's quite difficult to fight an enemy that can suddenly escape strait up."

She nodded in agreement and they continued preparing breakfast in silence, Caoimhe's mind completely wrapped up in what a harpie might be or do.


	8. Chapter 8

They took a little while to skirt around the foothills so they could come up on the harpies blind side.

"There," Thaden pointed out, "evidence." He pointed to a carcass that lay a ahead of them. The entrails dragged a few lengths along the grass before the poor deer-like creature had been torn apart, apparently in mid air, and its innards exploded over the grass. The remains had been picked over, but whether by harpies or less dangerous scavengers, she couldn't tell from this distance. It was gruesome at any rate and Caoimhe shook her head to clear the images of that being done to any sentient creature.

"If you settle on that hill," Thaden was saying, "You can fire on them from about the same level their nests rest at. They won't be expecting it. The I can come at them from the ground."

She nodded. It seemed reasonable.

She crept up the hill, keeping her head down. Thaden skirted it from the bottom. As she came near the crest, she could hear the flapping of wings and a screeching argument in a language she couldn't understand. She peeked over the crest.

Thaden had been kind in his description, they where fierce and feral looking. Their talons where as long as kitchen knives and the nests they hung from the trees where littered with bones and skulls, some obviously orc. A few looked too big to be orc, but not quite animal. Near the nest, a small clutch of harpies where fighting over what looked like a satchel. One would grab it with her talons and fly up into the air, another would snatch it away. The others would screech or cheer, she couldn't tell.

Meanwhile, the bag was being torn to shreds, clothing and foodstuffs fell out of it and the other harpies grabbed at the fallen loot and disappeared into nests. With fewer to attack, Caoimhe took aim.

One arrow pierced the bobbing target in the thigh. she screamed and shot skyward so fast Caoimhe lost her in the trees. The other laughed, at least that's what it sounded like, surprised by whatever mishap had befallen her rival, and grabbed the bag, darting into the nearby nest with her stolen goodies. Caoimhe's second arrow was readied and she scanned the trees for her target. She heard the rush of wind in time to duck her head, but could not get entirely out of the way of the raking claws. she rolled over and down the hill, coming up and firing into the air without bothering to aim. The harpy had already whirled around and tackled her from the side, knocking her to the ground again. This time, she abandoned the bow and drew her short sword. she waited till the creature flew over again, letting it think she was too wounded to stand and then striking up as it loomed over her. The harpie screamed and flew out of her reach. suddenly, it was stuck from behind, Thaden's shield fell to the ground and the dazed harpy fell with it. Thaden was on it quickly, piercing it through the back so fiercely, his blade hit the dirt under her. Caoimhe stood panting. he raised his visor to look at her. Her shoulder was bloodied and she was dirt head to toe.

"Try to hit them in the wings, bring them down faster," he said, lowered his visor and turned back to the nesting ground.

Caoimhe stared at the back of his head, feeling as if she should say something about how he was perhaps better suited to be bait, but decided he likely knew more about these creatures then she did and so readied an arrow and headed back up the hill to try again, more careful this time to take better aim.

It took a few hours to clear out the nests. Walking through the cleared area, Thaden nodded at their work.

"Not bad," he said, removing his helm and smiling at her. His face was red and sweaty and his hair wet from the effort. He started inspecting the bodies, pulling trinkets off them, taking anything he found interesting and shoving it into a belt pouch. Then he started to do something that took her completely by surprise. He took his very large sword and hacked off the claws on each of the dead creatures.

"What are you doing?" she asked, slightly sickened by the odd desecration.

He stopped what he was doing and looked up at her, equally surprised.

"Taking proof," he said, "You can't collect the bounty without proof."

"Bounty?" she asked herself, a little more out loud than she had intended to.

Thaden mistook her meaning. "Well here," he said, a little sour, "take what you can get, you helped. And check the nests while you're at it, destroy the eggs and grab anything valuable you can find"

Caoimhe complied slowly. "What about the remains?" she asked.

"Leave 'em," he said. "Scavenger's will take care of them soon enough."

"No," she said pointing to the skulls and bones that decorated the nests, "no, I mean those remains."

Thaden stood up and looked to where she was pointing. "Oh," he scratched his head, "There really is no way of telling how long they've been here. If you find a fresh body, let me know." And he went back to his work.

Caoimhe returned to her task, a bit less enthusiastically than her partner.

The smell in the nests made her ill, coupled with the fact that she had been hit several time by the swooping attackers, her searching was half hearted to say the least. She broke whatever eggs she could find, which thankfully was few, and she found very little of worth in the nests. Thaden had been correct about their target's though, she found broken skulls of what she could only assume where orc children and she suddenly didn't feel so terrible about the morning. She trudged back to the hill where Thaden was counting his collection of claws. She dropped onto the grass a little away from him.

"Well done," Thaden offered, showing off the count. He smiled at her, then frowned as she took off her own helm and lay back. "You're hurt," he said, coming over to where she lay.

"I am?" she asked, looking herself over. She was scratched and her heavy leather jerkin torn, she could already tell she would be sore in the morning, but her hands where covered in blood. She looked at her helm. The back of it had been ripped and strands of red hair where still sticking out of it.

"Oh," she said, a little surprised.

Thaden sat down behind her and leaned over to look at the gash.

"Good thing you had a helm," he said, "she might have had your head otherwise."

He cupped her head in one hand and pulled aside her hair with the other.

"I'm sorry if this hurts," he said.

A fresh stream of blood rolled down her neck as the gash reopened and he quickly readjusted and put some pressure down on the wound. Caoimhe got dizzy.

"Steady, there," he said. "It looks worse than it is. I think your helm kept it from opening too much." He tore off a piece of his undershirt and doused it with water from the canteen. 'Not much of a bandage, I'm sorry, but it will do till we can get you cleaned up properly." He took her hand and placed it on the wet cloth pressed to her skull. "Hold that there for a few minutes while I pack up." He started to collect their things. He tied a rope off of several of the claws and placed it with her bow. "You deserve the reward for these," he said almost reluctantly. "Good work."

Caoimhe smiled a little, although she wasn't sure why. Her head was pounding and now that she was sitting, she found it hard to stand. Buzzards where starting to gather overhead.

"Come on," Thaden said, helping her up, "We'll get these back for the pay out and see to that wound. I'll carry your pack." And without much effort, he hefted his gear and hers and headed toward the dusty trade road off in the distance.

The walk back to the Cross Roads was long, far longer than it should have been. They stopped frequently and Caoimhe apologized every time they did. Thaden seemed to go back and forth between being annoyed and expressing guilt, but he did not complain about helping her whenever she needed to rest. he sun was starting to sink when they where fortunate enough to be passed by a wagon being pulled by the largest beast of burden Caoimhe had ever seen and driven by an almost equally large Tauren. Thaden and the tauren exchanged a few words in orcish. Caoimhe mostly followed the conversation and was not surprised when Thaden boosted her into the back of the wagon. She leaned against a large barrel as they bounced down the road. The sun had dipped into the distance and the wind picked up as the wagon rolled through the barely protective wall of the trading outpost.

Thaden and the driver exchanged a few more words while Caoimhe climbed down from the back of the wagon. He hooked an arm under hers and steered her in the direction of a few small hide tents close to the road.

"where are we going?" she asked, "I thought the orcs took travelers in the hall over there." She nodded back at the large round building in the center of the post.

"Yes," he admitted, and again with a mix of guild and annoyance, "but I think you need someone to tend that gash. Just to be safe."

As they approached, two tauren who where relaxing by a cooking fire took notice. One stood. She bowed as they approached.

"I understand one of you is a healer?" Thaden asked, nodding to her bow as they approached. The female tauren turned her eyes to the male who still sat, gazing into the fire. Thaden turned his attention to the very large tauren.

Caoimhe had never been breathing distance to a tauren. Even in Orgrimmar, she had kept her distance. Now, standing right next to one, she was awed by their size. Thaden standing was only slightly taller than the tauren who was still sitting down.

"Are you a healer?" Thaden asked, omitting any pleasantries. Or she assumed he omitted them, perhaps orcish didn't make room for pleasantries. The tauren nodded, and Thaden pulled Caoimhe around in front of him. "Could you see to my companion? She has a wicked gash to her head," he glanced at Caoimhe. "I don't think it is serious, but I would prefer she have a skilled hand attend it."

The tauren looked from Thaden to Caoimhe, who could not keep her eyes from widening as the healer stood. He looked down at the two of them and nodded his head in the direction of the tent, then went inside.

Thaden looked at Caoimhe, then at the healer's companion, who had gone back to her seat by the fire.

"I'll see to our bounty," he said in Thalassian. "I'll be back." And he gave her a push toward the tent flap.

Caoimhe swallowed and ducked inside.

The interior of the tent was tall, but not very wide. It felt all the smaller for the giant tauren who occupied most of it. There was a very tiny fire, embers really, glowing in a tin to one side and a wide bedroll dressed to the other. The healer took a piece of fur off the bedroll and lay it on the ground. He then turned to look her over.  
>He gestured to the fur and said something in a language she did not understand. She shook her head and he smiled. He tried again, on orcish.<p>

"Sit," he said simply.

She sat slowly, her head exploding again with the change of altitude. Still, she stared at him, even more towering now that she was sitting down.  
>The massive tauren sat in front of her and looked her over. She couldn't help but draw back a little, not out of fear, but so she could properly see him. Her vision blurred a little with the effort and she squeezed her eyes shut.<p>

"Hmm," he said. "Hold still. I must remove your helm."

His massive three fingered hand very deftly pulled off the leather helm. she had put it back on to hold the cloth to the wound better. Over the course of the day, her hair, blood and sweat had all matted to the cloth, which the huge tauren was now peeling off.

"Ow, ow,ow," Caoimhe flinched.

He laughed a little as he inspected it. "Your friend was right to bring you here," he said.

"Ow," she replied.

"What hit you so hard?" he asked, leaning over and taking a scoop of water in a cup. He put his hand on the back of her head and pulled her forward, dumping the water on her head without much warning.

"Harpy," she gasped through the cold water.

"mmmm," he said, looking at the cleaner wound. "nasty things. The wounds get infected very easily."

'Are you," she asked through her soaking wet hair, "are you a priest?"

The tauren laughed outright. "No. Why? does it matter to you?"

"No," she said, "most of the healers I have met are priests, or acolytes to the priests."

"I see," he said. She kept her head tipped down as he worked.

"So...so if you are not a priest..." she started to ask, but could not find the appropriate phrase and finally settled on, "what do you do?"

"Do you have a name, elf?" the tauren asked.

"Oh, yes, Caoimhe," she said, lifting her head and bowing slightly, reverting to her own tongue, "forgive me, I did not ask yours."

He ignored her. "head down," he said in orcish. She apologized again and tipped her chin down. He slathered a cold paste on her head. "It is deep, but not terrible," he said. "Now sit still." and then he added, "and don't talk."

She picked at the stitches on her pants while she waited. He put a massive hand on top of her head. It occurred to her that he could very easily crush her where she sat. He started speaking again in his own language. It had the cadence of prayer. Her head tingled where he had slathered the paste. He finished and she continued to sit.

"You can sit up now," he finally said.

She looked up and smiled and reached for the back of her head.

"Don't touch," he ordered.

"Sorry," she said.

The tent flap opened and Thaden's head popped in. He smiled.

"All better?" he asked.

The tauren stood. Thaden straitened and extended his hand.

"I thank you," he said to the tauren, who carefully shook it in return. Thaden extended a small pouch as well. "For your trouble?"

The tauren looked at the pouch, then at Thaden. "No thank you, I do not need the coin."

Thaden thought to argue for a moment, thought better of it and looked at Caoimhe.

She stood, trying to resist the urge to touch the back of her head. She collected her ruined helm and bowed to the tauren.  
>"There's a traveler's house," Thaden said as they left, "not really an inn, exactly, but a place to stay. And here," he tossed her the pouch. "Your bounty."<br>He had set their packs outside behind the tauren's tent. She bent to retrieve it.

"He did a good job," Thaden observed. "You'd never know you'd been cut."

Thaden shouldered his own bags and headed toward the big building.

Caoimhe dug into her own packs and pulled out one of the hides and some of the jerky she had dried. While Thaden went to secure a bed, she went back to the front of the tent where the tauren had settled back outside their fire. They looked at her as she approached.

She bowed, "I hope you will take this." She hoped she hadn't mangled the words.

The healer stood and looked at the offering. He smiled and nodded and accepted the payment.

She went to meet Thaden.

"What took you so long?" he asked.

"I took a skin to the healer," she said.

"Why?" he asked.

"As...as a thanks, for his help," she said.

Thaden raised his eyebrows and shook his head. 'I don't know why, he said he didn't need payment." he settled himself onto a hammock.

"No," she said quietly, "he said he didn't need the coin."

Thaden looked at her. She shrugged at him and started to set herself up in an adjacent hammock.

He lay staring at the ceiling for a while. "I don't know what you had planned," he started.

"I have to take the hides i have left to the watchtower tomorrow, and I thought I would...,"

"No, after that," he interrupted. "You are quite handy with that bow." She beamed quietly, "Would you care to come south with me?"

"I could do that," she agreed.

He nodded and rolled over, comfortable in his choice. She smiled, despite the head ache and settled into the comfort of a bed for the night.


	9. Chapter 9

They stayed at the Cross Road for a few days. Caoimhe took the skins to the guard captain for the bounty, traded some of the dried meat for fruit and after a second night in the large dusty clay walled building that housed the orcish "inn", went looking for a place to take a bath. Water was scarce and the largest supply seemed to be a massive cistern near the forge. The orcs there told her their water was for more important things than bathing, and while she was never too concerned about how long she went between baths, she thought perhaps they might want to consider it, just for their wives sake. She went to find someone who might know where a spring or a pool would be.

"Have you heard of the Wailing Caverns?" she asked Thaden as they sat and ate.

He nodded.

"Have you ever been there?" she asked.

He shook his head no and swallowed. "Never had the need," he said. "Why?"

"It seems it is the closest real pool of water," she said.

"Why do you need water, there is plenty of drinking water here," he said.

Caoimhe rubbed the greasy patch on the back of her head where the taruen's salve had healed her wound, but left her hair matted and sticky. She's taken to wearing her patched helm just to keep dirt from sticking to it.

"I was hoping for a bath," she said sheepishly.

Thaden stopped chewing and looked at her. His eyebrows went up. He swallowed and smiled.

"I suppose that would likely be a good idea for both of us," he grinned and looked himself over. "I'm not used to traveling with company, I forget sometimes that a bath can be a social necessity."

Caoimhe giggled.

"Settled then," he said.

They made preparations for a long journey, purchased provisions and lightened their loads to only what they needed. Caoimhe was amazed that Thaden carried his armor. He was extremely practiced at it, and his muscles bore out that he had been doing it for quite a while. They where finishing tying off the bedrolls and settling with the orc who had lent them the beds when a shadow fell over them. They both looked up.

"Ah," Thaden stood and extended his hand to the tauren. "The healer," he smiled. He indicated Caoimhe, "she's still here."

The stoich tauren did not smile, but shook Thaden's hand in his massive one, careful not to squeeze too hard.

"I understand you are going to the Wailing Caverns?" he said.

Thaden looked surprised. "Yes, we had planned to stop there," he said, "May I ask how you knew that."

The tauren smiled, "The Cross Road is a small place, but even it has gossips." His face straitened, "Would you mind if I traveled with you?"

Caoimhe's face lit up. "That would be wonderful!" she exclaimed in spite of herself. Thaden shot a frown at her and she dropped her eyes to the dusty road. "Sorry," she said, "I wouldn't mind, though."

Thaden turned back to the tauren, his face suddenly set in a diplomatic smile, "Forgive my friend," he said, "she is new to the barrens and rather ignorant of the dangers on the plains." He examined the tauren, "You don't seem ready for the road, friend, perhaps there is an errand we could perform for you?"

The Tauren shook his head, "No, I wish to go myself, I only hoped you would be willing to share the road." He nodded to Thaden, then to Caoimhe, then he turned to go, his long legs carrying him quickly back toward his tent.

"No wait," Caoimhe said, stepping after him. Then to Thaden she quietly asked, "Why not? He is going anyway."

"He is not going anyway, if he where, he'd have already gone," Thaden said in a hoarse whisper. "He wants protection without paying for it."

Caoimhe tilted her head and cast an odd look at him, "If the road is so dangerous, having a healer is a good thing, yes? And the caverns are only a day or so away, we will be there shortly after nightfall if we start now, yes?" She started after the tauren again, smiling back at Thaden, who threw up his hands in resignation and followed her.

"Sir?" Caoimhe caught up with him and inserted herself in his path, bowing hastily. "We would be happy to share the road. If...if you still wish."

Thaden had caught up to them, standing next to Caoimhe, his diplomatic smile back in place. The tauren looked at Thaden.

"You have no objections?" he asked.

Thaden made a dismissive gesture, "I am only recently traveling with companions," he cast a quick eye at Caoimhe, "forgive my reluctance."

The tauren considered, then nodded. "I don't require much time," he said continuing.

They watched him away. Thaden put his hands on his hips and shook his head.

"I've never traveled with a tauren before," Caoimhe said. "I've never known a tauren before. have you?"

Thaden started to walk back to where he had left his packs. "Not well, no. They tend to be honest in their dealings, though."

"Why wouldn't they be?" she asked, following him.

Thaden looked at her, about to admonish her for being sarcastic when he realized she was quite serious. He decided it wasn't worth pursuing.

"Well, we can go to the caverns, have our baths and go south," he said, changing the subject and smiling at her. "And the tauren can do whatever he likes."

Caoimhe smiled.

They took up their packs and started in the direction of the tauren's tent. He was waiting for them. He didn't look as if he had prepared much, he carried only a large leather bag slung over his shoulder and a well worn woven poncho over that. He also carried a walking stick that was twice the size of Caoimhe and decorated with carvings and feathers and animals that looked as if they were cut from the bone of some huge animal. The female stood next to him, looking slightly less than pleased.

Thaden greeted him, standing a little further back this time. "Ready then?"

The tauren nodded, said a word in his own language to the female, who squeezed his arm and went back into the tent without a word to any one. Then the tauren started to walk.

Thaden shrugged at Caoimhe and the two jogged slightly to keep up with their new companion.

"You're Sunukukau, is that right?" Thaden asked.

The tauren nodded, "And you are called Thaden?"

Thaden looked a little surprised, "That's right."

"And your friend..." he started.

"Caoimhe," Caoimhe chimed in, "my name is Caoimhe."

The tauren nodded again, "I remember."

"You have a good reputation at the Cross Roads," Thaden said. "It seems you are everyone's most trusted healer."

Sunukukau blew a heavy breath out of his nostrils. "There are others," he said simply.

Thaden glanced at Caoimhe, who shrugged.

"How does a tauren healer end up in an orc outpost?" he tried again.

"Not the same way a Sin'dori warrior does," Sunukukau said without taking his eyes off the path ahead of him.

"Oh, he is more than a warrior," Caoimhe said. "He is a paladin." Orcish had no word for paladin, so she dropped back into Thallasian.

Sunukukau looked down at her briefly. "I am not familiar with that. Paladin." Thallasian sounded even stranger coming from a tauren then from an orc.

"Uhm...," she tried to find a good word to replace it. She didn't know holly, or spirit. "Priest warrior?" she tried, looking at Thaden to see what he thought of the translation.

"It isn't important," he said, speeding his gate. "He can call it whatever he wants."

Caoimhe watched him with a curious expression, but the conversation stopped for a while as the morning rode on.

The heat rose as the morning moved into afternoon, and without much discussion, the three found one of the few short scrub trees that dotted the landscape and dropped their packs in the shade. Caoimhe made a loop around the tree to make sure they would not be an inviting target for animals. Thaden leaned against his armor, chewing on a piece of jerky. Sunukukau sat at the base of the tree with the same posture he had sat in front of his fire. Caoimhe joined them.

"No nests, no burrows," she announced happily as she sat.

"Are you sure?" the tauren asked.

"Reasonably," she said. She took his silence as skepticism and continued, "I...I don't know the animals here as well as I do at...at home, but...but I imagine the signs are much...much the same."

"And why are you concerned?" he asked.

"I..I wouldn't want to disturb them, or have them try to steal my lunch," she said.

He chuckled a little and she relaxed, taking a drink of water and offering it to him.

"No thank you," he said. He reached toward a small bush that grew close to the tree where he sat. He snapped off a branch and started chewing on the leaves. Caoimhe couldn't help stare at him. She quietly compared the size of him to anything large she could bring to mind. His robes where made up of several hides. She imagined whole herds being felled to clothe a tauren family. How big where tauren families anyway? She watched him chew on the leaves and suddenly wondered how much it took to feed a tauren family. Her family ate a ton and she was tiny compared to him.

He looked at her watching him and asked, "Something wrong?"

"No," she jumped, "No..nothing. I was just...wondering. What...what are you going to the caverns for? For the water?"  
>He shook his massive head, "No."<p>

She waited for a further explanation. When none came, she asked, "What else is there?"

Thaden turned his attention slightly to listen.

"That is what i want to find out," he said.

"Is there something wrong?" she asked.

He sat for a moment in quiet contemplation before saying simply, "I hope not." He then went back to his improvised lunch.

Caoimhe looked to Thaden, who simply shrugged and covered his eyes for a brief nap before the three picked up their belongings and continued on.

They traveled at a leisurely pace through the afternoon. Sunukukau walked with purpose, his eyes ahead on the road. Thaden carries himself causally, but was clearly less than comfortable sharing the road now with two others.

"Larger group, larger target," he explained when Caoimhe asked why he kept swinging his eyes from bush to bush whenever the terrain changed.

"Don't you think it more likely brigands would attack a single target?" she asked.

"A lone female, perhaps," he said, "Or an unarmed tauren. They tend to think twice about attacking armed worriors."

"Has it ever happened to you?" she asked.

He nodded.

"And what happened?" she asked, a little excitement coming into her voice.

He glanced sideways at her. "I killed them," he said.

Caoimhe blinked. "That's...that's all?"

"what do you mean?" he asked, "Someone attacks you on the road, you kill them. There is little more to it than that."

Caoimhe fell back to walking behind him, felling a little embarrassed for asking what apparently was a foolish question.

The suns began to set, turning the sky red and orange and the shadow of the rock that marked the caverns loomed ahead of them. pillars of steam whisped into the sky and in the dusk, the whole place looked ominous.

"We can get there in about an hour, if you don't mind setting camp in the dark," Thaden offered.

The Tauren nodded and Caoimhe agreed and fireflies and night creatures called in the darkness as they set a small camp.

"You'll want to wait until tomorrow for your bath," Thaden grinned at Caoimhe as she stood on top of a rock outcrop looking at the steam rising from the water. "You'll be freezing all night if you take one now."

She nodded. "Is he like the tauren you have met before?" she asked.

"Not really," he said, his grin fading.

"So they all travel so light? I mean, he brought nothing with him," she said looking down at the silhouette of the tauren sitting by the very small fire.

"They don't all travel so light," he said. "Or so lightly armed." Thaden shook his head and shrugged, "But he's here now and whatever he needs to do is his business." He stretched and said in the most playful voice she had heard from him yet, "we are here to avail ourselves of the waters." He winked at her and climbed back down the rock to the fire.

An unfamiliar tingle ran down Caoimhe spine and she felt herself blush. She stared back out at the steaming water and smiled at the darkness.


	10. Chapter 10

The sunrise was splendid, the light glowing the long horizon. Caoimhe rest her chin on the edge of the rock as she kicked lazily in the water. The hot springs that fed the pools where deep in the caverns, so by the time the water rose to the surface and met the air, it was considerably cooled, it was still warm as a properly heated bath.

Thaden sat atop the rock looking down at the shadow of Caoimhe as she watched the sun come up.

"Will you be joining her?" came the deep voice of the tauren from behind.

Thaden jumped a little. He stood quickly, putting his back to the pool and stepping down a little to where Sunukukau stood.

"No,no," he coughed. "I'll wait until she is done." He smiled at the tauren as he came down to meet him.

Sunukukau watched him. Thaden clapped him on the arm as he passed.

"I'll start a fire," he offered.

"Allow me," the tauren countered.

Thaden stood back, "if you insist."

He watched as Sunukukau sat and pulled a small bundle from his bag.

"You are related?" Sunu asked. He struck the flint a few times.

Thaden laughed, "No. We just met."

"Really," he said. "Watching her bath seems quite familiar for having just met."

A flash of anger came over Thaden's face. He stared at the tauren as he calmly stoked the fire. With a flush of indignation, he grabbed a blanket from his bedroll, shook it vigorously and stormed off, the tauren chuckling as he did.

Thaden went a little way around the rocks to the water. The sun was spreading light across the grasses and breaking onto the water. He made a point of holding the blanket well above his line of sight when he said, "How's the water?"

He heard a splash.

"Fine," she said from somewhere near his feet.

"I brought a blanket," he said.

She thought for a moment. "It doesn't make sense to bath then wrap in a dirty blanket," she said. "But it is a lovely gesture."

Thaden lowered the blanket and inspected it. "It isn't that bad, is it?"

He glanced up at her. She had sunk into the water so only her chin and face was above the water, He smiled a little.

"How where you planning to dry off?" he asked.

"I left my things over there," she pointed to a rock that was now fully in the new day sun. "I figured they would dry quickly once the sun came up."

"You washed them?" he asked.

"Just a few things," she said, keeping close to the rock edge.

Thaden lay the blanket down. "Do you mind if I sit?"

Caoimhe's face turned pale, then pink. "I...uhm...I guess not," she said. Her clothes on the other side of the pool seemed very far away suddenly.

Thaden smiled and sat down cross legged on the blanket. He leaned back on his hands and stared at the sky.

"I figure we can get better than halfway to Thousand Needles today, without pressing too hard. We'll stop around midday, we'll want to find shade," he took a glance down. She had lifted her head a little out of the water to listen, "Way out past Thousand Needles there's a desert. The goblins have set up an outpost there."

"Goblins?" Caoimhe's ears pricked up and she lifted herself up on the ledge a little. Not too much, he noticed.

"Yes," he nodded, "entrepreneurial little sons of...uhm. they tend to have a lot of work."

"Yes, they...they seem to be. I...I thought they just ran airships," she wondered out loud.

Thaden laughed, "well you don't think that's all they do, do you?"

Caoimhe blushed and sank back into the water. "Do...do you plan to bathe?" she asked.

"Oh," Thaden stood and started to strip, "yes, thank you."

A mortified look came over Caoimhe face and she was both thrilled and horrified at the same time. Thaden glanced up from unlacing his trousers and caught her eye. He let out a little sigh and smiled, "I'm sorry, again, not really used to sharing the road." He turned his back to Caoimhe and waited patiently. She was glad he couldn't see her turn red as she swam to her clothes, climbed to the other side of the rock and scrunched down out of sight.

"Thank you," she yelled across the pool as she shook herself dry and pulled the sun warmed shirt over her head. There was a splash and she took a quick peek over the rock. Thaden had jumped in , still in his short breeches. Caoimhe sighed, a little relieved and leaned over the rock waiting for him to surface. He popped up a few feet in front of her.

"So Thousand needles by mid morning tomorrow," he said, shaking water about.

She nodded. "But what about the tauren?"

"What about him?" Thaden asked. "He has his own business."

Caoimhe frowned a little at the hem of her shirt.

"What?" he asked.

"Don't you think we should...should offer to assist?" she asked.

"Why? If he needs help he'll ask," he said.

"You aren't curious what...what he's doing here?" she looked up from her shirt hem to see him kick away from the rock in a bit of an angry huff.

"No," he said, "Not in the least."

And with that he dropped back under the water.

Caoimhe frowned and sighed and collected the rest of her clothes. She dressed behind a tree and left Thaden kicking about in the pool.  
>Sunukukau had a small fire and was boiling water when she came back to the camp. She sat down across from him.<p>

"I have some fruit, if you'd like. And jerky," she offered.

He smiled, "No thank you. I would not want to deplete your store. You and your friend are continuing on, yes? You will want it for the road."

"You are...not continuing? Are you going back to the Crossroads?" she asked, pulling her knees up and letting the fire dry the dampness still in her clothes.

He poked at the fire before answering. "Not right away," he said.

"If...if I may ask," she started. He looked up at her. She took it as permission to continue, "Why did you come here?"

He tilted his head from side to side, evaluating an answer.

"The caves here, they are poisoned," he said.

Caoimhe gasped. She'd just bathed in poisoned water? "Is the water safe?" she asked, "Should I tell Thaden?"

He shook his head. "No, as far as I can tell, the water out here is fine. No, perhaps corrupted would be a better word. Aberrant from the natural order," he looked at her, "Do you understand?"

"I...uhm...perhaps," she said. "I understand why it would be of concern."

He looked doubtful that she did. "Have you ever encountered corrupted spirits?" he asked.

Caoimhe's stared into the fire. "I have...I have seen aberration in the natural order," she said quietly. "What is it you are going to do here?"

Sunu straitened, "I will go into the caves and see what is there."

"And then?" she pressed.

"And then?" he shrugged. "Then I will decide what course of action to take."

When Thaden returned to the camp, prepared to pack and move on, Caoimhe was already dressed, her battered swords on her hip, and her bow and quiver ready. He looked from her to the tauren. Sunukukau had also shouldered what little he carried.

"What's this then?" he asked, tension in his voice betraying his casual demeanor.

"We...we are going to the caverns," Caoimhe said.

"Your friend insisted on accompanying me," Sunu said.

"Fine," Thaden said, sitting on his pack and shaking out his wet hair. "She certainly doesn't need my permission."

"You don't wish to come?" she asked.

"Not really," he said.

"Even if there may be something wrong?" she pressed.

Thaden looked at her, then at the tauren. "Do you need my help?" he asked, putting on his over shirt.

"I do not need it," Sunu said. "And I wouldn't want it unwillingly."

"What?" he mumbled through the cloth.

Sunu had started walking away. "Safe travels to you, should I not see you again," he said in parting.

"Wait, what?" Thaden pulled his shirt on and stood up. Caoimhe looked at him, a little torn.

"If you wait here," she said quietly, "I'll be back." She started to follow the tauren.

The caverns were bordering on hot. Steam rose from pools and moss clung to the walls. As they moved inward, the daylight gave way to darkness.  
>Caoimhe squinted into the cave. "If you give me a few moments," she said, "I will scout ahead."<p>

A crunching of metal on metal behind them caused them both to turn. Thaden tromped up, still adjusting his armor. He turned sideways, "Would you?" he asked Caoimhe, pointing at the unadjusted straps. She smiled and complied.

"We will need a torch," Thaden said.

Fire leaped to life in front of them, seemingly willed into existence by the druid.

"Does that help?" he asked.

Thaden did not respond.

"That...That does rather make us an easy target," Caoimhe said, "If you are concerned over such."

"That may make our discoveries easier," Sunu said. "The natural creatures here will draw away from it."

"So if we aren't attacked by," Thaden stopped his thought, "Do you know exactly what it is you are looking for?"

Sunu was quiet as he walked. "I had a friend," he started, "A fellow druid, who came here to see the springs. There is spiritual power in these places. He did not come back. It wasn't until I came to the crossroads that I heard of the corruption here."

"So you are looking for remains?" Thaden asked unsympathetically.

Sunu did not answer but continued in silence.

"Spirits aren't likely to care about torches," Caoimhe said quietly.

"Spirits," Thaden mumbled under his breath dismissively. "I'd worry more about whatever could survive down here in this heat."

The hot moist air was becoming oppressive. In the armor, even though he wasn't wearing all of it, Thaden was quickly becoming drenched in sweat. Caoimhe would have thought Sunu would be as well, but he showed no signs of discomfort.

The air became hazy with steam and the smell changed from flat air and algae to stagnation and rot, but they found no signs in the first quarter hour of inspecting and walking that would indicate anyone had been there in some time.

"I think your search may be fruitless," Thaden said. "anything that might have died here would decompose far faster than above."

Caoimhe frowned into the darkness ahead of her. The slime on the wet walls shimmered as it dripped in the light.

"That seems very pessimistic," she said as she watched the stream of goo collect into a pool on the cave floor.

"Pessimistic but correct," Sunukukau said, his voice having no more emotion than if he'd been announcing that it was raining outside.

"Would he have carried anything?" Thaden asked, finally engaging in the conversation without sarcasm or disinterest.

"A hunting knife," Sunu said without thinking, "Possibly a stone totem."

Thaden nodded, his eyes scouring the ground for signs of unnatural rocks or metal bits.

"What...what is that?" Caoimhe asked from the edge of the ring of light. The others turned to where she stood.

Caoimhe had watched the goo flow down the wall, collect into a little pool and then, much to her surprise, the whole small mass started to scoot little by little out of the light.

"Where?" Thaden asked, his sword ready.

She pointed with an arrow already notched in the bow. "There."

Sunu moved the flame closer and they all saw, pulsing and rolling and dragging itself into the darkness a slimy mass of what looked like translucent algae. They all moved closer.

"What is it?" she asked again, pointing he4r question at Thaden.

"I have no idea," he said. He moved to poke it with the tip of his sword. a heavy mit fell on his arm.

"Not a good idea," Sunu said. "Poking a strange animal with a sword."

"Animal?" Thaden was incredulous. "It doesn't even have a brain," he said waving his sword at the visible lack of organs.

"There are plants that eat flesh," Sunu said, pulling a few leaves from his belt pouch, "they have no minds to speak of, but they are dangerous none the less." He leaned over and dropped a leaf onto the moving bubble. They all watched intently.

The little goo shuttered and moved first to one side and then the other, as if trying to get out from under whatever it had bumped into, then with a sudden quick movement it's middle dropped and its sides folded over on the leaf, engulfing it completely. Then, as the ooze stared to move away from the light, the leaf started to break apart and disappear.

"Oh my!" Caoimhe exclaimed, fascinated.

"That would explain why we're finding no evidence of anything living in here," Thaden said.

"This is living," Sunu noted, "However primitive."

"Well I don't see anything else," Thaden said, looking around. He stood and looked beyond the ring of light, just to be sure. He squinted into the dimness beyond. He tightened his grip on the sword.

Sunu and Caoimhe saw what Thaden did not say. The light glinted off a dozen shimmering oozes that crept around the cavern walls.

They varied in size, some looked very small, others looked the size of a dog. None seemed to take note of them.

"Ok," Thaden said camly, "we can go out the same way we came in. It isn't too far. Agreed?" He looked to Sunukukau for confirmation.

The tauren frowned, clearly unhappy with his choices. Finally he nodded, and he turned with the light to retrace their steps.

They all stopped, realizing that the creatures had filled the gap as the darkness had closed around them.

Sunu sighed. "We will have to move very slowly," he said.

And so the crawl started. They moved closer to the creatures, and they would inch away from the light, instinctively. They would wait until there was enough room to move and continue forward. In the firelight, they could see through the translucent bodies of the larger creatures, some with the scattered remains of bones and flesh trapped inside them.

"Ew," Caoimhe made an involuntary noise as she caught sight of a partially digested rat.

Thaden laughed. "Come on, surely skinning a rabbit is just as bad."

"Yes," she said, "but that...that is just unnatural."

Thaden looked at the unfortunate rat as the ooze inched along. "Oh, I don't know," he said leaning in to get a better look. "Not much worse than field stew, really."  
>Sunu was about to warn him of getting too close to the creatures when Thaden stepped backward, his foot coming down on a small ooze with a sickening squishing sound.<p>

He stopped and looked down, a look on his face that recalled stepping in dung. "Iche," he said looking at the spattered mess. Then a sickly smoke started to rise from his boot. A look of horror came across his face.

"Ach, get it off!" he drug his foot across the rocks.

"Hold still," Sunu said, reaching out to calm him and bending over to inspect the damage. "It did not burn through your boot."

"Thaden," Caoimhe said, her voice urgent. "I think you may have upset them."

Thaden and Sunu looked up.

Whether upset over the untimely squishing of a friend or simply drawn to the possibility of a meal by the scent of Thaden's burning shoe, the rest of the oozes had started to circle around them.

"Uh oh," was all Thaden managed before the closest one attacked.

They never would have guessed by the way they bloobled away from the light that the things were capable of any kind of speed. The nearest blob rushed Thaden, extending a part of its body out to suck in his sword arm, as it was the closest appendage. Thaden had been holding his sword in his shield hand while attempting to get the acidic goop off his foot, but flipped it back into the right grasp expertly even as he deflected the lunge with his shield. Caoimhe let two arrows loose in rapid succession only to watch one slosh right through the upper layer of the thing and the other sink in and stop suddenly, then become absorbed into the thing in slow motion. she reached for a new arrow.

Sunu had thrown the torch to ground.

"What are you doing?" Thaden yelped. The light faded as Sunukakau chanted. "We'll be helpless in the dark."

But the torch suddenly flared, a column of flame wrapped around a carved wooden post and Caoimhe watched as she took aim again as small balls of fire whipped from the column to the hit the oozes.

Thaden spun around and sliced cleanly through the first ooze, which lost cohesion for a brief moment before collecting itself and trying again. A second and a third where attempting to crowd out the first and make a meal of the paladin. His blade smoked as the acid singed the metal. He slashed at it again, and again it slowed, but continued on, more pressed around him.

Caoimhe's next arrows stuck into the ooze, but did not get sucked in, she took it as a good sign, but with so little room in the cave, her shots where slow and near meaningless. More oozes where slushing silently toward them from both directions.

Sunu's chanting had grown louder. With a sudden yell and a tremendous stomping of hid massive hoof, the ground around them shook and a concussive shock wave rolled through the cave. the oozes stopped advancing and shook like mounds of pudding. Thaden backed up behind the planted torch.

"Fire!" he said. "The fire sears right through them."

Caoimhe didn't waste any more time, she rolled her bag off her back and pulled a pouch out from the side of it. With the pull string, she tired the whole bag onto the end of an arrow, notched it, and dipped the tip into the flaming totem. she turned and fired the arrow into the advancing oozes that blocked their escape out of the tunnel.

The little bag sputtered and sparked as it flew and landed clumsily somewhere int he middle of the recovering cluster. Then it exploded. There was a flash and a bang that echoed off the walls. Not as impressive as the tauren's massive rumpling stomp, but this one spread fire through the cavern and the oozes that where not melting in the flames where scootching away from the burning floor as fast as their pudding like bodies could move.

Caoimhe squinted and started runnibng through the dispersing flames.

"Come on," she urged, "It won't last long."

The three of them ran into the scattered blaze, bits of fire flaring as they passed, pools of rapidly dispersing acid splashing up onto the walls. They were much faster than the jellies that pursued them and the things didn't seem interested in crossing the fire line anyway. They ran until the fire was a dim glow behind them and darkness loomed in front of them. Sunu struck a new torch.

He looked at the elves. His eyes fell on Thaden, panting from the run in his armor, and said, "We will treat more carefully this time."

* * *

><p>Sunukukau sat at the edge of the cavern entrance staring into a bowl of water. Caoimhe approached him quietly and coughed. He looked up.<p>

"We are leaving now," she said simply.

He nodded.

"Are you certain you do not want us to go back with you?" she asked.

Sunu shook his shaggy head. "Your friend seems insistent that you press on," he said.

Caoimhe bit her lip but didn't respond.

"I'm sorry we didn't find your friend," she said.

"No reason for you to be sorry," he said, returning his gaze to the water. "He may yet be alive, but I will go find other druids to assist. This does not seem a task for novices."

Caoimhe blushed a little and nodded.

"Safe travels, then," she offered and she bowed with respect.

"Safe travels, Caoimhe," he smiled a little at the bowl.

Thaden waited on the other side of the rocks for her. He bathed, again, shouldered his packs and thanked the tauren briefly before leaving the pool for Caoimhe to clean up and do the same.

"Ready?" he asked as she approached.

She looked back the way she had come. "I suppose so," she said.

"He'll be fine," Thaden frowned a little at her concern. "He would have come without us and been just fine." He stepped toward the road, clearly happy to be on his way and leave this behind. "To Thousand Needles and no more distractions!" he announced cheerfully.

"To Thousand needles," she echoed with a hesitant smile.


	11. Chapter 11

"What is this place?" Caoimhe asked, looking out over the cracked earth and decrepid buildings that set off the gold road. They had walked at a casual pace for two days without seeing another soul. Thaden had entertained Caoimhe with stories of his own travels coming down from the north, but seemed constantly uncomfortable by her amazement and questions. Caoimhe had stopped asking about the people he had met. He rarely had anything positive to say, his answers where vague at best and he avoided any discussion of his station as a paladin, which she didn't understand but respected because, well, he was a paladin and she respected that. As they surveyed the dots that busied themselves over the landscape, a hardened look came over Thaden's face that she had not yet seen, even against the harpies.

"Bael Moden," Thaden said with some distaste. "it's a dwarven...well it used to be a stronghold, now its fallen into...well, it isn't much any more. They defend it, I think they are trying to repair it, but it's falling apart." he collapsed the spyglass and handed it back to her. "So how close is it to the road?" Caoimhe asked opening the glass and looking for herself.

"Not very," he admitted.

Caoimhe looked over the pit the dwarves seemed to have excavated. "what are they looking for?" She asked.

Thaden shrugged, "No idea." He started to head down the little rise and toward the oposite side of the wide trade road. "But they patrol regularly."

Caoimhe hurriedly packed her glass and scurried to follow the paladin. There wasn't much cover on this part of the road, if they walked on the road itself, they would be easily visible, even if they stayed to the west side of the road, there would be only a few rocks to obscure a lookout's vantage from Bael Moden.

"How are we going? Cut west?" she asked.

"No," he said with a grim confidence. "No, we will continue on the road." He glanced at her, "But I'd have your bow strung, just in case."

As they walked, Thaden unslung his shield and handed it to her. She held it as they continued and he skillfully suited his pauldrons and his helm.

"What are you ding?" she asked. Much like in the caverns, he looked a little odd in pieces of the once brilliant armor, she could imagine, out in the sun, how amazing and inspiring he would look if he donned the whole of it.

"I told you,they patrol regularly," he held his arm out for the shield.

"Yes, but aren't they more likely to notice you this way?"  
>He didn't say anything and she handed him his shield and strung her bow, an uncomfortable lump forming in her throat.<p>

They reached the part in the road that swung closest to the ruins. They could see the crumbling domed top in the haze to the east, cut into the shadow of the hills. Thaden's eyes kept to the road ahead, but his ears twitched with anticipation.

It was difficult to tell, because it happened so quickly, if the dwarves saw them before Thaden bellowed his battle cry. The air was split by the crack of a gun and then Caoimhe was loosing arrows as quickly as she could draw the string, trying to cover Thaden's charge. She had never been fired on by a gun and though the sound was terrifying, it was clear that she could load far faster than they could and by the time they had fired their second shot, which she could hear hit Thaden's shield, he was upon them and two of the three where forced to engage him directly. Caoimhe cursed inwardly that she had no clear shot and turned her attention to the third, who was reloading, dropped behind a low rock. He lifted his eyes just enough to look at her. This was suddenly far different than harpies. She had met dwarves. They had been guests at the events of the Order when she was a child. She remembered them as pleasant, loud and jovial. She remembered them shaking her father's hand and how funny she found it that a grown dwarf was shorter than she when she was only a page. But she let go the arrow anyway, because this dwarf was clearly going to kill her if he had the chance. He swung his weapon up and fired.

The cloud of dust kicked up just to her left as the bullet ricocheted off the rocks and Caoimhe dove to the ground in the opposite direction.

And then it was quiet. She wiped the dust out of her eyes and stood cautiously. Thaden stood over the fallen dwarves. She came up on his side. He had a few cuts on his mostly bare arms, but aside from the guns, the dwarves had little more than hunting knives. It would appear their patrol was more for predatory animals than angry elves. She looked from the dwarves to Thaden, and her face paled. Something near satisfaction settled on his face, a near smile on his lips. He looked at her.

"Lets go," he said.

Caoimhe watched him walk away from the bodies, shocked.

"You aren't going to leave them like that, are you?" she asked his back.

He glanced over his shoulder at her but didn't stop. "What do you mean?" he asked casually.

"The...the...them," she looked at the two last bodies, twitching in pain. "They aren't dead."

"So?" he hadn't stopped, moving on to where they had dropped their packs when the attack started.

Caoimhe stood, torn between a sense of duty to the paladin and a sense of honor over the dying.

"So?" she asked indignantly. "You...you are...you are a paladin. You can't just leave them."

She could see, even as he walked away, his shoulder's tense and the fist of his free hand clench. Still he said nothing, but picked up his pack where he had left it and continued on.

Caoimhe stared at him, then back at the dying dwarves. She looked around. There would be no help come for them, she knew. Carion birds or scavengers would come for them, dead or not. Caoimhe looked back to the faces of the two. With her heart in her throat, she took her bow, took solid and deadly aim, and put the last two out of their misery.

The sun was starting to sink into the hills when Caoimhe finally caught up with Thaden. He hadn't waited for her, but had stopped to set camp near the edge of the cliff, where they had agreed. It was well into the territory of the Taruen, he had said. He said nothing as she approached, just poked at the fire. She said nothing as the set her pack down away from the fire, spread her bed roll on the ground and sat down. The fire crackled.

"What took you so long?" he asked finally.

"I buried them," she said simply. His mouth dropped open in disbelief. Before he could say anything she added, "They...it would have been noticed. Carrion would have given the bodies away. I covered them with rocks."

Thaden closed his mouth and stiffly went back to the fire.

The sun set and rose and neither spoke. Thaden kicked over the fire. Caoimhe shouldered her pack and waited.

Finally Thaden stormed up to her, "They wouldn't have shown you any kind of mercy."

Caoimhe blinked at him, "does that matter?"

"They are the enemy," he growled.

"You...you are a paladin," she said, "You are supposed to be better than the enemy."

Thaden stared angrily at her. He searched her face for some sign of cynicism, some sign that she was angry, but he only saw disbelief and sadness.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean," he said angrily and without waiting for an answer, turned and stomped away toward the path along the cliffs.

They didn't speak to one another at all that day, even as the tauren guards questioned them about their business in the territory. Caoimhe could not muster her normal enthusiasm for the road, so confused and disparaging over the behavior of the paladin she had followed across the barrens. They camped in the crook of the cliffs, surrounded by the majesty of Thousand needles and when Caoimhe woke the next morning, the fire was cold, and the paladin was gone.

At first, Caoimhe was worried. But it didn't take her long to realize he hadn't come to any foul play, he had just picked up all of his belongings and moved on. She made herself a cold breakfast of fruit in a sort of numb detachment. she packed her own bedroll and sat on it watching the sun creep through the valley.


End file.
